


Through the Mirror of Erised

by Brattness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But i think i figured it out, F/M, Fremione - Freeform, I didnt really know where to go from here, Multi, Romione (first few chapters), Slow Burn, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10411173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brattness/pseuds/Brattness
Summary: Even those with magic cannot raise the dead. This is a tragic truth that the Wizarding world has come to accept as a whole.But when there are terrible and magical events such as the Battle upon the Hogwarts grounds, events that bring terrible strong powers, beyond any ever before seen, around tremendously powerful magical artifacts (such as one Mirror of Erised), miraculous things might just happen.Fred Weasley discovers just what kinds of miracles can occur when that much magic comes to bare, riding upon the backs of a hundred souls crying out for their hearts' desires.





	1. Come Through Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.

> The castle shook, wailed, creaked. It was a place of learning, meant to be a refuge to those children nestled within its halls. Yet, on this night, those precious children fought and died just to save their world. Hogwarts itself protested, the walls crumbling, exploding, and shuddering into rubble as killing curses filled the air. There was a soft scream emitting from the very foundations of the castle as portraits and suits of armor did all they could to protect those under their charge. The stones leaped to do the bidding of the teachers within the castle halls, protecting the life of every wizard and witch, despite blood rights or heritage.
> 
> Each felled child, each dead warrior of light caused the school to protest further until it was shaking even deep into its core; deep into the hidden rooms and dungeons and pathways that held the best kept secrets of the magical world within them. There was an ongoing tremble, a roar, that saturated the grounds at the supposed death of the young chosen one. Then an upheaval at the death of the twisted boy that had desecrated those sacred halls. A boy that had grown to be a monster.
> 
> And still more magic poured through the air as cries of joy, relief, and utter heartbreak rang through the halls. The atmosphere was so full of magic one might choke on it. The palpable magical energy drifted through the castle, swirling and tangling into the walls and around those searching for the lost souls within the rubble. The energies of all those witches and wizards mourning and celebrating in that one place congealed into an almost visible mass as it sought out a catalyst of some kind. A way to be utilized.
> 
> What it found was a mirror, tall and wide and engraved all around its edge is backwards script. The magics seeped into it, as though it were a portal through which it might manifest itself. With the magic came the pleading of the ones huddled in the halls, mourning lost loved ones, wanting nothing more than for the lost to return. Faces began to flash behind the mirror, all of them reflections of those lost that day as hundreds of desires flit across the glassy, reflective surface. It was almost as though the mirror were confused. Which desire was it to fulfill? There stood no single person before it to cater to, only a mass of magic and consciousness demanding the mirror do as it was created to do.
> 
> The flashes continued for hours until, finally, a young woman stumbled through the rubble at the doorway and came face to face with her own reflection. The bushy-haired witch was looking for survivors, bodies, anyone she could help; but the sight of herself, covered in grime, blood, and sweat gave her pause. She stopped long enough to stare at her reflection before she walked closer to it. As she did, she saw a familiar ginger figure materialize behind her reflection. Her brow furrowed, and a look of utter devastation crossed her features. "George, what are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be with your famil-" she glanced over her shoulder and stopped mid-sentence, finding no one behind her. Turning back to the mirror with wide eyes she saw the red-head was still there.
> 
> She tore her eyes away from the reflection long enough to glance at the details of the mirror, eyes trailing across the writing about the edge. Her jaw dropped in surprise. This must have been that mirror Harry had spoken to her about, the one that showed him his parents. Taking another step forward she noticed a constant flickering around the edge of the mirror, but as she was unable to make any sense of it she once again focused on the red-head standing just behind her reflection in the mirror. Upon its features rested a familiar cheeky grin, cocky and sure and so very heart-wrenching to gaze upon. She reached out, fingers shaking as her features began to crumple once more. The reflection wasn't George. George was still mourning his dead twin. The twin whose reflection now taunted Hermione.
> 
> A rough, gasping sob escaped Hermione as her palm pressed against the glass, a flash of heat surprising her for a moment, though not really registering. Hot tears flowed down her face, burning trails along her cheeks . So absorbed in the image before her, she didn't notice that the flickering around the edge of the mirror had ceased. She trembled so hard the mirror wobbled, and she cried for the loss of the one reflected in the mirror with her. "Oh, Fred. I wish I could have saved you," she whispered. "What will your mother do without you there? And poor George..." The reflected ginger tilted his head to one side, his expression growing concerned as he reached out to place his hand against Hermione's on the mirror, trying to be of comfort. She would have stayed longer, allowing her tears to continue to escape her for hours, but she heard voices back the way she came, shouting and calls as other survivors searched for anyone they might be able to save. She had work to do. There were still people here who needed her. The witch pulled away from the mirror, glancing pitifully over at that smiling face again once more before turning her back and fleeing the room.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Hours had gone by, some of the crying and wailing had calmed as the night progressed and the world was growing cold and dark. Deep in Hogwarts the mirror continued to shake, pent-up, un-spent magic trying desperately to manifest and escape. The wobbling that had started with the simple touch of a witch in mourning had not stopped for a second. Her magic and her desires had been the catalyst to what came next. A choice had been made. All the power, the energy, the magic could now focus on one of the many desires that had been racing through its very being.
> 
> The trembling intensified exponentially until the sound of it against the stones became a great cacophony that drew the schools newest Headmistress in its direction. It shook, rippled, and cracked. Every movement was loud as a shot in the demolished room and caused the lone instructor to start fearfully, brandishing her wand in a defensive manner. Cracks continued to form, growing hot and beginning to glow a fierce red. To McGonagall , it appeared as though steam or smoke was leaking out of the mirror through the gaping spaces, causing her to stand back from the magical artifact. A pounding, scrambling sound could be heard through the mirror, as though someone where knocking upon it from behind, like a door. A quick inspection around the room told Minerva McGonagall that _that_ was not the case. It couldn't be, there was no one else in the room! She stood warily before the mirror, watching cracks trail slowly across the surface of the mirror as the trembling, the banging, the steaming continued. After some time of this she began to hear something coming from the mirror, as though someone were screaming from behind the glass, trying desperately to come through. It started low, as though muffled or from far away. The sound intensified as the cracks grew and as more steam came through. It was a sound she had hoped she had finished hearing for the night. One full of terror and agony. Torturous, it was. Enough so to cause her free, trembling hand to come up to hold her own sobs back in her throat. She was far too weary to maintain her composure, and after the numbers of stunners she had suffered that night, she was allowed this moment of uncertainty.
> 
> Finally, as Minerva stood shaking as hard as the mirror, wand still lifted in defense, the glass gave a great lurch and a crack split it so hard, shards flew forth from its surface. Through the holes poured what appeared to be water, tinged in a red coloring much like blood. It hit the floor with a shocking splash and McGonagall was forced to stumble back over the rubble behind her to escape it, her eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. She had never heard of any magical object behaving in such a fashion without provocation. It left her immediately concerned for the well-being of those now in her care. As she watched more and more glass and water fell away. It became increasingly clear that something was coming through it. Something human, and very familiar to her. A human she had mourned not an hour earlier.
> 
> Finally the glass gave way completely, and someone _did_ emerge. McGonagall froze in place, staring wide-eyed and disbelieving at the body that lay curled and breathing raggedly at her feet. It took a moment but, being Minnie McGonagall, she righted herself and became a flurry of movement soon after. She prepared to take the trembling soul to Madam Pomfrey as she stared at the mirror. The shaking was gone. The steam and water, too. Now all that stood there was a rather ordinary, broken mirror, making no noise at all.


	2. How is this possible?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Weasleys aren't sure what's real anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.

> -o-0-o-
> 
> A loud bang rang out across the already crowded Hospital wing as Minerva McGonagall strode into the room, a slight limp and unruly hair the only remaining signs she bore from the struggle of the battle earlier that day. Behind her, levitating in the air, followed a figure covered in his rescuer's cloak and trembling uncontrollably. "Poppy! I need you!" she called out. Madam Pomfrey, knowing that Minerva would not call her away from her already ailing patients unless it was an absolute emergency, bustled over with a small group of haggard looking Mungo's healers following behind.
> 
> Professor McGonagall pointed at an empty chair, which Madam Pomfrey immediately transfiguration into a cot for the figure to be laid upon. At once the three Healers around them leaned in and started casting a myriad of spells in an attempt to save the young man's life. Poppy leaned over and ran her fingers through fiery hair before dashing off in search of what potions she could find to help. They were in such short supply of healing potions by this point. "The other twin, Minnie? Oh, poor Arthur and Molly, to almost lose both of them in one day!"
> 
> There was a _'tsk'_ from the other witch as she shook her head and reached forward with trembling hands. "No, Poppy. Not the other twin..." Her fingers brushed the hair back on either side of the young man's head, revealing both ears fully intact. The school's healer nearly dropped her potions in shock, a gasp escaping her.
> 
> "That's not possible, Minnie! I checked the body myself, in the Great Hall!" Madam Pomfrey breathed incredulously as she began attempting to pour a potion down the still trembling man's throat. "His family was mourning him! There was no way to bring him back!"
> 
> Minerva nodded slowly, pulling her hands away from the wizard's head. "I know, Poppy. I was just giving them my condolences before I went out in search of any further survivors. They were doing everything they could to help others in need, they're probably still down there with the boy's body..."
> 
> "How is this _possible_?!" Poppy hissed out as the trembling of her patient slowly began to fade away. The spells and potions were finally starting to calm his system, healing the cuts that covered his skin along with the bones that had been shattered in his ribcage, limbs, and skull.
> 
> Minerva shook her head, staring down at the Weasley she had _known_ was dead not hours ago when last she saw him. "I don't know. I found him, falling out of an ancient magical artefact...I...Oh, I wish Albus were here. He might have had an idea..."
> 
> A deep groan found its way out of the throat of the young man, interrupting their conversation. One of the Healers was quick to raise his wand again. "It might be best if he stays asleep for awhile. His body is going to need weeks of healing. It's a miracle he isn't dead."
> 
> "It certainly is," Poppy stated warily. She turned to look at Minerva, concern filling her features. "Minnie. We need to tell them." Minerva, eyes still glued to the young man's face, nodded her agreement.
> 
> "I'll go and speak to Molly and Arthur."
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> The Weasleys were gathered in the Great Hall of the ruined castle, each in various states of mourning alongside their adopted family members, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Molly sat upon the floor, holding her surviving twin to her side as they wept together, rocking back and forth at their lost child's side. Ginny leaned against Harry, so tired at this point that she had few tears left to shed. She stared blankly over the heads of her family. Hermione sat beside Ron, rubbing her hand across his shoulders as he shook, quietly crying into his arms and curling in on himself. None of them knew what else to do. The eldest three brothers and their father made rounds about the Hall, helping where they could to save the lives of other families' children.
> 
> None of them noticed the Professor who made her way into the hall with quick, sharp steps leading her straight towards them until she was already leaning over their grieving mother. One gentle hand ran along Mrs. Weasley's shoulder blades as she spoke softly into her ear. "I am so sorry, Molly, that I need to pull you away. I know you and your family need time to mourn and come to terms with this loss. But it is imperative that you and your husband follow me to the Hospital wing, immediately." Molly's tear-stained face turned up to meet Minerva's gaze as she struggled to hold in a sob, her son trembling in her arms.
> 
> "Minnie, can't it wait? My children..." She murmured, clinging to George. Hermione, noticing the exchange, looked over Ron's head to catch Harry's eye. The bespectacled hero nodded once in his understanding and reached out with one hand to grip Ron's shoulder, providing support for both siblings as Hermione stood to make her way towards the two older witches.
> 
> "I know it is much to ask," McGonagall answered with a soft shake of her head. "But it is necessary. I _need_ you and Arthur to come with me."
> 
> Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to protest when Hermione's hand rested upon her shoulder. "It's alright, Mrs. Weasley. I'll take care of them. Professor McGonagall wouldn't be so insistent if it weren't an emergency, surely." 
> 
> Molly's glanced at the young woman with a soft, strained smile. "My girl..." She murmured, running a free hand over Hermione's bushy and tangled hair. She slid up onto her knees, transferring care of her distraught son to Hermione before standing and calling for Arthur. None of the gathering family members noticed the almost terrified look McGonagall had locked onto the body of Fred Weasley while waiting for Molly to inform her husband that they were needed elsewhere. The pair turned to Minerva, breaking her from her thoughts as they nodded that they would follow.
> 
> Hermione wrapped her arms around a shuddering George who lifted his arms and wrapped them firmly about her shoulders, burying his face in her neck. Hermione drew in a long, slow sigh, humming in what she hoped was a soothing way. No recognizable tune, just a humming noise as she ran her palm across his back, continuing the rocking of Mrs. Weasley. After a few moments, Bill and Charlie found themselves back with their siblings, standing awkwardly before the younger of the two spoke up, scratching the back of his head. "I'm going to head up to the Hospital Wing. See if I can help there..." Bill nodded in agreement and followed after his brother slowly, reaching out to take his wife's hand as they went.
> 
> Hermione ran watery eyes over the crowd of mourning people all around them and waited.
> 
> -o-0-o 
> 
> "Minerva!" Molly called as she was rushed through crumbling and broken halls up into the Hospital Wing. "What is going on?" Even Arthur had to quicken his pace to keep up with the two women, so forceful was the Professor's stride.
> 
> "I don't know _how_ to explain this to you, Molly. You _must_ come see it yourself," came the almost sharp reply. She nearly dragged the couple through the doors and between crowded beds full of injured witches and wizards until they stood before Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy?"
> 
> The school's healer nodded as she turned back to the bed in which lay her newest charge. Minerva turned back to the Weasley's holding her hands up to still them for a moment. "Now, I must tell you that I do not yet understand how this could have happened. By all means, it _should_ be impossible. But, I knew I should inform you immediately about this, even though I remain at a loss as to how to explain."
> 
> Molly's eyes were now glued to the bed, in which a shock of red hair was sticking out from under the blanket. "Minerva, what is it?" Arthur spoke, placing a hand upon his wife's elbow. Poppy looked between them before drawing the covers down, revealing a healing but very much alive Fred Weasley.
> 
> Molly let out a gasp, bringing her hands up to her mouth in disbelief, turning shocked eyes to her husband, who's gaze remained fixed upon the breathing version of his son. "Arthur! That's Fred! How is that Fred!?" Arthur shook his head slowly, unable to break his gaze from the young man. Molly turned back to Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. "Is that...Could it _really_ be him? Minerva, we just left his…” The ginger witch’s voice trembled and broke for a moment before she was able to regain some semblance of calm. “We just left his body down there with his siblings!"
> 
> Poppy was the one to speak up this time, Minerva looking at a complete loss. "As far as we can tell at the moment, _this_ is Fred Weasley. But we have been unable to wake him to confirm. There is too much healing that needs done. Too much damage throughout his body for us to be willing to wake him. It could do unimaginable amounts of damage to him..." She paused at the sound of a whimper from Mrs. Weasley before she continued. "We want to focus on the body at present. Once the body is in better condition, we can examine his mind. Find out how he came to be here."
> 
> Molly began to step forward, tears streaming down her face as Arthur held one of her hands near him, not sure if he wanted her near this version of his son. Years of working with items that aren't what they appear to be caused him to be wary. But he didn't want to pull her away from her goal. He watched as his wife reached out one trembling hand to run her fingertips over the cheekbone of the red-head in the bed that looked so much like their sweet, dead son. Another sob escaped Molly and she moaned out a soft "Oh, my Freddie..." Just as Bill, Fleur, and Charlie walked through the doors.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Charlie came rushing back through the Great Hall, weaving through the few remaining people who were removing their dead and injured loved ones from the premises, dodging around Healers that were transporting their patients away to St. Mungo's. He made a bee-line to his siblings and their friends. "Get up," he demanded, reaching down to pull Harry and Ron to their feet. "We need to get to the Hospital Wing, now." Ron grumbled and whined as he was hauled up against his will, reaching up to forcefully scrub the tears from his face.
> 
> "What the bloody Hell are you on about?" He snapped at Charlie as his elder brother knelt beside Hermione, gently dragging George away from her, and murmuring softly to him. Charlie looked up at Ron as he helped the grieving twin to his feet, providing as much support as he needed. "Mum and Dad need us in the Hospital Wing. Now." Charlie turned back to George. "C'mon, little brother. I've got you." Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance between them before Harry shrugged and began to follow Charlie, the only Weasley sister in tow. Hermione sighed and made her way to Ron, straightening and laying a hand on his arm. "Let's go, Ron." The tall boy allowed himself to be dragged away with one last backward glance at the covered body of a brother left behind.


	3. It's a matter of some debate.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Weasleys are still divided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.

> -o-0-o-
> 
> The youngest Weasleys along with Harry and Hermione stood just inside the doorway of the Hospital Wing, tense and unsure. There before them stood their mother, fingertips traveling over the face, hair, and chest of a young man who seemed an awful lot like the body they had just left behind. But it did not make any sense, given that surely no one would have been able to make it up to the Hospital Wing before them while carrying a dead weight through the rubble in the halls. Yet, there Fred lay, as his mother gently smoothed his hair, cooing out love and adoration to him.
> 
> Ronald was the first to speak up. "H-how...did you get his body up here so quickly? We were just sitting next to him." Even after using the Marauder's Map for so long, the Golden trio could not think of any short-cuts that had not been damaged during the battle. Hermione stood by his side, eyes glued to this Fred's chest, eyes widening by the second as she slipped her hand in his. "Ron..." She started to speak, not yet believing what her eyes were showing her.
> 
> Arthur, who continued to half hold the mother of his children back while unable to tear his eyes away, answered, "This isn't the same Fred...Or, it is, but he's not..." He paused, looking completely unsure of how to put their current situation to words.
> 
> "Fred's _alive_ ," Molly interrupted, tearing her eyes away from her son's face to look at the rest of them, as they stood back with concern and confusion clear on their faces. "My baby's _alive_ ," Molly breathed out as she turned her face back to Fred. George was the first to move forward, his first few steps slow and stumbling. He placed one hand upon the bed for support as he made his way up towards the furthest edge, leaning over to survey the face before him. He reached one shaking hand up to place it upon the chest of this second version of his twin and waited, holding his own breath. His hand lifted and fell with the breathing of the other red-head and he let out his own breath in a tremulous half-laugh. "F-Freddie...?" he asked, reaching his other hand up to pick lightly at the tangled mass of hair atop Fred's head. He leaned forward to press his forehead against his twin's temple. "Freddie!"
> 
> Ron's brow furrowed as he shifted from side to side, his expression clouded with disbelief. "But..." He started. "But Fred is down in the Great Hall. Mum? Fred is _dead_. We all saw him! We all have been crying over his corpse! Where the bloody Hell did _this_ come from?" Hermione's grip on Ron's hand tightened as she grew concerned. She was lost, as well, admittedly. The dead did not just come back to life. That there appeared to be two versions of Fred laying in this castle at this very moment was incredibly nerve-wracking.
> 
> Molly's face, tear stained and stern, snapped up to look at Ron, hurt evident in her eyes. "I don't _care_ where he came from, Ronald! It doesn't matter!" she turned her face back to her revived son, her features softening to reflect love and relief. "We should be grateful to have this second chance." Arthur shifted behind her, his eyes lifting to meet with those of Bill. His eldest son was someone experienced with curses and information pertaining to those who have lost their life only to be reanimated. Those cases never ended well, and they knew it. Hermione noticed the concern in Bill's face as his brow furrowed in thought, gaze shifting from his father's face and back to the body of his once departed brother.
> 
> Just as Ron opened his mouth to argue, the doors opened once more to reveal Charlie dragging Percy in by his elbow, the youngest of the two looking like an absolute mess. It had become quickly evident that Percy took Fred's death on himself while they had all been mourning in the Great Hall. He had been the eldest of them during that particular fight. He was engulfed in the idea that he should have protected his sibling. Paid more attention. Been more careful. Not distracted his brother in the middle of a battle. His face was swollen and red, and he was obviously drained, having thrown himself into the rescue efforts around the school pulling others out of rubble and from behind walls in an attempt to keep more youths like Fred from dying in such a way. He was fighting with Charlie on his way across the Hospital Wing. "Charlie, let go! There are still missing people to find! I need..."
> 
> Charlie cut him off, forcing the smaller of them forward toward the bed and gesturing at it. "You are needed here, you prat." Percy turned his exhausted, angered face from his siblings to turn to the bed and came to a sudden halt, his eyes widening in shock. He stumbled back a step before Charlie's hand came up to rest between his shoulder blades. "Look," Charlie murmured.
> 
> Percy let out a shuddering breath, staring before he spoke. "He's...He's _breathing_! _How_ is he breathing?"
> 
> A soft sound came from their side as Professor McGonagall stepped forward, clearing her throat. "Well, now that you are all here, I believe we have a few things to discuss."
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> McGonagall's office was in a state of complete disarray. Hermione had never seen the office of her Head of House be so disorderly and unorganized. Books were torn and strewn across the floor, there were bits of broken glass everywhere, remnants of vials, mirrors, and various other magical tools. Unknown liquids pooled under cabinets, or dripped off her desk, leaving an odd smell lingering in the air that was quickly whisked away by a frigid breeze. A quick glance around the small space revealed a gaping hole in one wall just under the window leading to a shear drop down the Gryffindor tower. A quick wave of the interim Head mistress' wand saw to the mess enough to make room for the crowd of red-heads that followed her. They all set out searching for any surface that might be used as a seat. This one family seemed to consume every available space even with the absence of Molly and George, who had remained in the Hospital Wing with Fred and would learn about his appearance from their family later. It took some shuffling around before everyone was settled, the girls finally just giving up and plopping themselves in a lap each, Hermione with Ron and Ginny with Arthur. They all turned their eyes to Professor McGonagall, who watched with a barely concealed amusement at the confusion before she grew serious once more.
> 
> "I know you all have mixed feelings right now and must be very confused. I admit that I am also at a bit of a loss." She spread her hands before her atop her desk, palms up in an almost shrug-like gesture.
> 
> Arthur spoke up then. "Let's just start with where you found this...this _other_ Fred. And from there we can try to work out who..."
> 
> "Or _what_ ," Ron interrupted his father.
> 
> "Ronald!" Hermione hissed at him as he continued to glare in the Professor's direction.
> 
> "...Or what," Arthur conceded, "this is and where we go from here."
> 
> Minerva nodded, taking a deep breath and weaving her fingers together and resting them upon the desk before her. She told them of her search through the halls for anyone who might still be living, or for anybody who had not survived but should be given to their grieving family. It was nothing much different than what any of them had been doing. She described the odd sounds, the shaking and trembling she had heard. Hermione's face perked up at the description that her Professor provided about location of the Mirror. This was familiar to her. She had heard and seen this too, not long before McGonagall had. Her Professor went on to describe the trembling that turned into a shaking so fierce that she thought the magical object would crumble to pieces before her. And she described how, rather than the trembling causing the destruction of the mirror, something else had clawed and hammered and burst its way out of artifact. "I know that it was not something just breaking through from _behind_ the mirror, I checked. It was as though something _within_ the mirror itself was attempting to escape," she explained. "It was...Quite disconcerting, to say the least, to hear something rather powerful struggling so hard to come through. Hearing the _screams_..."
> 
> The whole group winced at the thought as Minerva shuddered at the memory. Bill murmured a shaking "He was screaming?"
> 
> McGonagall nodded taking a moment to draw in a slow, deep breath before continuing. "I could only assume whatever was coming through was in an immense amount of pain, perhaps even being forced through against its will." She clenched her fingers together so tightly her knuckles shown white. "The mirror cracked open and from these cracks tumbled this...this copy of your young Mr. Weasley, who I already knew was lost to us. He was obviously in a great deal of distress, so I brought him to Poppy immediately. I was not even certain it _was_ a copy of your son, Arthur, until I came to fetch you. The Healers and Poppy all inform me that he is a genuine Fred Weasley. That the boy in the Hospital Wing is real and _human_ is not suspect at all. What we are not certain of is how this is possible, or why..."
> 
> The group gathered around the room shifted, some looking at each other in confusion, others glaring down at their hands. Hermione reached up to tug on a lock of her hair, pulling it straight as she chewed on her bottom lip in thought. Should she speak up about her own experience with the mirror? Was it related at all?
> 
> Before Hermione had made up her mind she heard Bill speak up. "Neither you, nor Poppy....Or, or _any_ of the Healers could find anything abnormal, or dark about Fr- uh...About this Fred?" He shifted from one foot to the other, his brow continuously furrowed in thought from the moment he had laid eyes on this new Fred.
> 
> McGonagall shook her head, her hands opening before her in a half shrug. "We found _nothing_ to indicate this was a mimic or dark magic of any kind. Save for the extent of his injuries, he appears to be who he appears to be."
> 
> "The 'extent of his injuries'?" Ginny repeated, face pale and looking most reluctant to ask. 
> 
> Minerva glanced over at the young girl from over her half-moon glasses, lips pursed in contemplation before nodding once. "Yes, Ms. Weasley. His body was quite damaged. By all accounts he should have expired the moment he fell from the mirror..."
> 
> Hermione jumped in surprise as Ron, who had been silent but shaking in unvoiced agitation throughout the conversation so far since being silenced by the girl in his lap earlier, spat out his opinion in a venomous way. "But he _is_ dead, isn't he? He's laying dead in the Great Hall. Laying there, _abandoned_ by his family who is _supposed_ to be mourning him. Who _have_ been mourning him there this whole time!"
> 
> "Ron..." Arthur started to speak, in an attempt to calm his youngest son. However, Ron was not to be placated.
> 
> "But instead, some...some...What? Some mirror image of _our_ Fred falls out of somewhere, and we don't have any idea where he came from, and suddenly we just forget Fred, laying _dead_ in this very castle? Like his death didn't happen at all?"
> 
> Hermione reached out a hand to rest it on Ron's shoulder. "Ron, maybe we just need to..."
> 
> Ron brushed her hand off his shoulder. "No! No, don't tell me to calm down. This family has been tricked over and over again by copies, and dark magic filled diaries, and Polyjuiced teachers and everything else for the past seven years, and you're all just jumping at the chance for it to happen again!"
> 
> Bill sighed audibly, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose, fingers trailing lightly across the scars there. "He _does_ have a point, dad. We don't know how this happened. Magic has shown again and again how dangerous it is to play with life and death. How magic can't _actually_ bring anyone back to life. How is this at all possible?"
> 
> Arthur leaned forward a bit, resting his forehead against his fingertips as he tightened his hold around his daughter. "I...I don't know, Bill. I've never heard of such a thing happening before." He lifted his face to turn his eyes back to McGonagall. "Minerva, what are your thoughts on it?"
> 
> The older witches had opened her mouth to express her own continued confusion when Hermione spoke up, looking rather embarrassed at having interrupted the two. "I...um...If you don't mind, Professor. I have something to add. I don't know if it is related to his arrival, but it _is_ related to the Mirror of Erised, at least."
> 
> The group of wizards and witches turned their attention to Hermione, interest and curiosity mixed in with the continued exhaustion and confusion they each felt. Hermione stared at them all for a second before shifting in her place on Ron's lap, feeling a bit put on the spot. It was her own doing, however, so she continued on. "Maybe a few hours before your experience with the Mirror, I also found it. Like you said, it was trembling and making an awful lot of noise. Nothing near as exaggerated as what you saw, I think. Just some light tremors, really. But..." She paused, glancing at Ron, knowing what she was about to say could be taken the wrong way. Especially by someone as short-tempered and quick to react as Ronald. "Umm...When I was coming up to it, it was flashing different images, just lightning quick. I could almost make them out, but I wasn't really sure. Just flashes. And the whole thing almost seemed to swell, like it was too full of something, just buzzing with...With an excess of energy, I suppose? So, I was curious, and I went to stand before it, and I touched it..." She paused once more, taking a deep breath before rushing the rest out. "Well, it stopped shaking and I saw Fred. He was...He was in the mirror, grinning, being obnoxious as normal. And I was going to look at it a bit closer, because the Mirror was behaving so strangely before, but I heard some voices down the hall and needed to go back to searching."
> 
> Hermione could feel the heat of several eyes on her but straightened her back and began to meet each gaze with her own. She'd said her piece, and that was the best she'd be able to do. She could feel that Ron was tense, his arm no longer around her, and he would not meet her gaze. Hermione knew she would have to take some time to speak with him when she could, but now was not the time, and this was not the place for it. Instead, she turned her gaze to McGonagall when the older witch spoke again. "Well, this is a starting point. It appears we all have some work to do." The elderly witch stood, bracing her fingers upon her desk as she did so, leaning lightly upon it for support. "I know there has been much excitement, but it may be best for you all to try to get some rest. There is still much left to do, and we will need refreshed people to help with it once the rest have grown tired." Minerva sighed, looking every one of her years. "We will begin burying our lost soon, many arrangements must be made..."
> 
> Arthur stood, carefully helping his daughter to her feet before reaching out to place a hand on the shoulder of the witch before him. "I, Molly, and our children are at your disposal, Minnie. You let us know what you need of us." 
> 
> McGonagall nodded as she straightened up, clasping her hands before her. "First order of business for you is rest. Feel free to utilize what beds are salvageable in the Gryffindor dorms for now." She gestured towards the door. "I trust you know the way."
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Arthur made his way back up to what remained of the hospital wing as his children all began to wind their way back to the ruin of the Gryffindor dorms. They paused as they walked through the door surveying the destruction, crumbling holes in the walls letting in a breeze. Hermione sighed as she looked over the floor where chairs were toppled over and books lay strewn haphazardly. She reached up to push her fingers through the mass of her curls only for them to become stuck in the tangles. Ginny let out a soft chuckle as she and Harry reached up to untangle their friend. Bill, Charley, Percy and Ron began to walk through the dorms in an attempt to find enough clean surfaces upon which they could sleep. 
> 
> Once Hermione was finally released, she and Ginny headed toward the staircase toward the girl's dorms. Ginny stopped to chat with Harry and her brothers for a moment as Hermione paused before Ron, who looked rather put out and did not seem to want to meet her eyes. "Ron? Is there something wrong?" she asked tentatively. She watched as his brow furrowed and he shuffled before he shook his head.
> 
> "Nah, Hermione. Just tired, I guess. I'll feel better after some sleep, yeah?" Ron shrugged, finally peeking up at Hermione with a halfhearted, half smirk flickering across his lips. She smiled in return, leaning forward to place a hand on his arm and press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He watched her as she did, his expression unreadable before they heard a wolf whistle coming from across the common room.
> 
> "Oi, lovebirds! Break it up there! Mum would kill ya if we got sick off your PDA!" Charlie laughed as he teased, Ginny and Harry snickering behind him. Ron shook his head, glaring. "Oh, sod off, Charlie!" He replied as Hermione laughed herself and started heading to the staircase as well, trailing after Ginny. The two girls stopped at the first room they came to with two usable beds and shook out the sheets, making sure they weren't sleeping on rubble. As they settled in, they were silent, exhaustion beginning to take its toll. Just as she was finally nearing the sweet bliss of sleep, Hermione heard her friend's voice in the dim dawn light. "Do you think that's really Fred, 'Mione?"
> 
> Hermione bit her lip in thought as she turned her gaze back to the red-head in the bed beside her. "I don't know. There has never been any account of anyone truly returning from the dead before..."
> 
> Ginny hummed sleepily as she thought upon their situation. "I hope so. We need him to be." Hermione couldn't help but agree. The thought of the Weasleys without one of the twins made her chest ache.


	4. The Long Road to Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone has to begin healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> As an aside, since I have discovered some of you have an incredibly intense dislike for some of the other pairings involved (specifically one) I will be adding a slight warning in the story by adding some * to my little page divider (-o-0-o-) when something Romione happens. It will look like this: *-o-0-o-* instead of -o-0-o-
> 
> That way you can skip by it if you must.

> -o-0-o-
> 
> Hermione woke, eyes snapping open in a near panic, the past years’ worth of horrors continuing to flash through her dreams. She had snatched up her wand and held it up before her to fend off any attackers, before the light filling the room calmed her breathing, assuring her she was not in any danger. She slowly straightened up to survey her surroundings. Her gaze traveled over the mayhem that surrounded her. The dorm was an absolute wreck. It would take forever to clean up just the one room. The thought of all the effort that would be needed to put the castle to rights left her with a steady pounding headache. Eventually Hermione's gaze drifted across to the bed beside her and her heart broke at the sight she found there. Ginny sat up, legs curled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her tired, bloodshot and puffy red eyes stared blankly straight ahead, barely blinking at all. She looked as though she had been awake for quite some time, and had likely spent most of that time crying.
> 
> Hermione quietly slipped off the bed she had occupied, making her way over to settle in beside Ginny. The older witch reached out and wrapped her arms around the younger's shoulders, resting her head against her friend's. They sat like that quietly for a while. Eventually Hermione sat up and dug around for a brush in order to run it carefully through fiery red locks of hair until Ginny had had enough time to compose herself, bolstering her resolve to make it through the day. As hard as it would be. She took a deep breath as she paused before the door. "I keep seeing them, laying there...Dead. Every time I close my eyes."
> 
> Hermione winced, that confession striking too close to home for her at that moment. She stepped forward to wrap her arm around Ginny's shoulders again and guided her to the door. "Then let's go and see them with our own eyes and replace those images with better ones." Hermione knew that in Harry's case, this might begin to work after a while. He was, after all, undeniably alive. But Fred... Ginny's brow furrowed in thought. Hermione knew the youngest Weasley sibling still had not decided how to feel about that particular situation. 
> 
> The two young women picked their way carefully down the crowded, cluttered stairway trying not to trip over any stray pieces of rubble or refuse. It took them a few minutes but they managed it, Ginny reaching out to help Hermione scramble down the last couple of stairs. "Well rested, girls?" asked Bill from across the room. "We've a lot of work to do."
> 
> Ginny nodded as she moved to sit next to her eldest brother and curl up against his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and lifted a mug of coffee up towards Hermione. "Come join us for something to eat. Kreacher came with some provisions." Hermione blinked in surprise, eyes turned towards the floor looking for the tiny elf. She jumped in surprise, reaching for a wand as a raspy voice sounded behind her. 
> 
> "Kreacher came to serve his Master Harry, yes. Brings food for his Master Harry and friends, filthy blood traitors and mudbloods that they are." Hermione turned her face towards Charlie, who had reached out for her hand to keep her from hexing the poor elf on reflex. He nodded to her once he was sure she had calmed down enough to not pull a wand on anyone, then he returned to his breakfast. Hermione wiped her palms down along her side's and took a deep breath before sinking into a chair next to Harry. 
> 
> "That was very thoughtful of you, Kreature, thank you." The elf bowed towards Harry with a twisted scowl before stating he needed to return to help the rest of the elves in righting the castle. Then, with a loud _'pop'_ , he was gone. 
> 
> Hermione glanced around at the group around her; Harry, Ron, Ginny, Percy, Charlie, Bill, and Fleur all sitting around a wobbling table. All looking just as tired as they were when they had been to bed. All were still covered in bits of dirt, dust and blood. She cleared her throat as she struggled to get enough food in her to last for the day. It would be another long one. They would need to relieve some of the rescue and cleaning crews. She knew it was likely Charlie would be off to round up whatever beasts, including dragons, that had escaped to wander after the battle. Bill and Fleur might stay and help. Who knew what lingering dark spells, hexes, and curses still lingered in the halls after the battle. Bill's skills would be greatly appreciated. Hermione knew Harry would stay and help in whatever way he could for as long as he was needed. He was the type to take such things on himself.
> 
> It did not take long for everyone to eat what they could before shuffling up and towards the open doorway to the ruined halls of the castle. They picked their way slowly toward the Great Hall, preparing to relieve who they could and help wherever it was needed. Charlie paused at the stairway up to the Hospital wing. Lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, he let them know that he would stop by to check on their parents before getting to work with his fellows. There were, after all, a great number of dangerous magical beasts that were on the loose in the area. 
> 
> After their goodbyes, the rest of the ragged group made their way into the Great Hall, which was cleared of many of the survivors, just a few of the least injured still sitting against the far wall. There were a few healers still manning the rescue efforts, and the eldest Weasley siblings quickly moved to let them know they had replacements. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny glanced over at the other wall where there still remained a few of the bodies of those that could not be saved. Hermione heard the soft sigh that escaped Harry when they came to where Tonks and Remus had lain, only to find the space bare. Andromeda must have come to claim them, then. They halted not far from the covered body that lay right where they left it, not even eight hours earlier. Ginny made a sound akin to a whimper, none of them were sure what to do, or think. There was Fred, cold and very much dead.
> 
> Hermione turned to look at the faces of the others beside her to see Ginny hiding against Harry's chest, Harry looking up as though able to see through the floors and walls into the Hospital wing, and Ron glaring almost pointedly at his brother's body. As though refusing to believe that Fred was anywhere but there on the floor. The brunette witch sighed and stepped forward. "Maybe we should move him to the Burrow? Tend to him temporarily until we've done all we can, here?" Ron nodded, stepping forward.
> 
> "I'll help you move him, 'Mione. It's the least his family can do." The lanky red-head stepped forward as Harry finally lowered his eyes to them, full of caution and questions. 
> 
> "We'll just get him settled, then be right back," Hermione assured him, before kneeling before Fred's feet, leaving the head and shoulders for Ron, who mimicked her own position before they lifted the body, headed towards the nearest Ministry official for a portkey or directions to an available floo. Neither trusted themselves to apparate safely at the moment. They were in silent agreement about that, at least. 
> 
> *-o-0-o-*
> 
> Hermione and Ron whirled into being before the Burrow, Fred's body upright between them, a dead weight that nearly knocked Hermione down. But this had been a person, a dearly beloved person, who deserved more than to just be levitated from point 'A' to point 'B' simply because it was more convenient. Fred deserved more respect. Between them, they managed to haul the cold form through the small patch of rain coated grass, leaving their shoes damp and squeaking once they made it into the house. They glanced around for an appropriate place to lay the body until the family was able to come home and care for it properly. There wasn't much more they could do other than transfigure an end table into a cot. Once they managed to get Fred laid down and covered, Hermione began to cast a series of spells to protect and preserve him for a short period of time. Ron stood to one side, staring as the woman he now viewed as a girlfriend tended to his dead brother's corpse.
> 
> Finally finished, Hermione straightened her back, stretching sore muscles before turning back to Ron. She offered him a small smile before reaching for his hand, weaving her fingers between his longer ones. "Are you alright, Ron?" she asked tentatively, knowing that he wasn't.
> 
> As she suspected, her tall companion shook his head, bowing it to rest his forehead against her own with his eyes closed. Hermione simply stood and waited, brown eyes blinking up at him patiently. She felt his sigh against her lips before she felt his mouth fit against her own, the touch soft, almost unsure. She lifted up onto her tiptoes just a fraction in order to actively respond to him. It was nothing near as electrifying as that kiss in the Chamber of Secrets. No adrenaline rush causing waves of fire, heat, and desperation to course through her. But it was nice. Soothing in a way, to have this kind of contact with a man she had grown up with and trusted with her life. He pulled away not long after the kiss had started, lifting his head and taking a deep breath. "Thank you," he murmured, his eyes scanning the white sheet that covered his elder brother's form.
> 
> Hermione glanced back at the covered figure as well before tugging at his hand toward the floo. "C'mon, Ron. There's still a lot to do. We have to go help Harry and Ginny." Ron nodded, silently allowing himself to be guided away. 
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> The trio, along with other members of the family continued to walk along the Great Hall. They were all helping to transfer patients still in need of care to St. Mungo's as space became available. Those who were not working with the injured worked at cleaning the halls and classrooms of the castle to make any further rescue attempts easier. The piles of stone, rubble and splintered wood was easily removed, banished from existence if not salvageable. Any materials that could be used again were stacked off to the side in an already cleared classroom so rebuilding of the castle could begin more efficiently at a later time. There was the occasional survivor or casualty found among the wreckage, and for a while things became a blur of activity as Healers swarmed in to take hold of the war victim and care for them.
> 
> Hermione would have much preferred if that _was_ the most activity that she saw throughout the day. However, even this soon after the final battle, with injured and dead still being found and rogue Death Eaters still on the run, reporters from various newspapers found their way into the castle to besiege those working to salvage what they could. They were much like vultures, though Hermione hated to use that imagery for them. She couldn't find anything more appropriate for it. She was constantly having to whisk Harry away from a group of them or having to be rescued herself. It was shameful as far as the bushy-haired witch was concerned, and on numerous occasions she asked why they were just standing around rather than actually assisting in the rescue efforts. She had nearly hexed a group she had found that had cornered Ginny, asking about her feelings over Fred's supposed death and how their family was dealing with the loss. Ginny had been shaking so hard by the time Hermione had dragged her away, she was surprised Ginny had not hexed them herself. "Are you alright, Ginny?"
> 
> Ginny nodded, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm fine, I'm fine! One second more, though and _they_ wouldn't have been!" The younger of the two witches peeked back over her shoulder as though to make sure they weren't being followed. "I just hope no one catches wind of what's going on in the Hospital wing. The press would have a field day." Hermione had to agree. How in the world were they going to handle _that_ situation?
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Up in the Hospital wing things were much calmer than they were just that morning, but all the beds remained full. None of the patients there were in dire condition, but they would be the last to be moved, given that they would be more adequately cared for here than those that remained in the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey continued to bustle about the wing, administering what potions she could, though there weren't many that had finished brewing yet. Most of the healers that had come to assist were now worn down and curled in corners or hard-backed chairs in an attempt to get any rest at all. Pomfrey's hands had been trembling fiercely for some time now but despite continued attempts to get her to rest she soldiered on, continuing to weave what spells of healing she could. Magic could only do so much so quickly, and it frustrated her to no end that there were people left to suffer in her care. She did listen to McGonagall finally, once the transfigurations professor admonished her and reminded her that her magic would wear down eventually and _then_ what state would her patients be in?
> 
> As Poppy rested, Minerva and Arthur worked in her stead to keep the victims of the Battle as comfortable as they could. Molly and George remained by the reborn Fred's bedside, Molly perched upon the cot half hanging off given how small a space was available to her. Their mother leaned over her still breathing son, a concerned smile on her face as she whispered encouraging words to him. She made him promises of all his favorite foods when he healed and woke. She promised to not scold him over his inventions again and spoke of how proud she actually was of their success. How she could never be anything short of proud of them. George didn't really hear any of this. His hand was in Fred's, his fingers squeezing his twin's own tightly. His eyes were focused upon his brother's chest, unwavering and unresponsive to whatever else transpired around them. His affect was calm, subdued. It was vastly different from the elation he had displayed at finding his twin brother alive. Even his father could not drag a reason out of him for this complete change in behavior.
> 
> Despite this, he refused to leave his brother's side unless he absolutely had to. However, there was a moment, for a brief flicker of movement, that he reacted when Bill wandered into the Hospital Wing, later in the afternoon. His elder brother clapped a hand over his shoulder for a moment before leaning over to murmur into his mother's ear. Molly's shaky smile faded as she looked up at her eldest son but she nodded and stood, following along to where Arthur sat close by. George shifted a bit, his grip on his brother tightening as his eyes flicked to the faces of his other family members. His focus zeroed in on their lips, watching the movements and mentally translating what he saw into what he heard instead, knowing that his parents and brother would be discussing what would become of Fred.
> 
> "Mum, we have to think about this carefully..." Bill started.
> 
> Molly's tears had started up again, a mixture of frustration and grief. "Bill, _this_ is Fred! This _is_ my second chance with my baby. Why question a gift like this?"
> 
> "Bill is right, Molly. No one is saying we don't _hope_ this is a second chance with our boy, but..." Arthur placed his hand on his wife's elbow, before her tears made his words slow and he winced at the heartbreak behind them. 
> 
> Bill, however, charged forth, his family's safety his main goal. "Mum, the facts are that magic cannot bring the dead back to life. No one can! So, whatever this is, however this happened...We need to be careful. This could be some form of dark magic never before seen, for all we know." He shook his head, reaching up to tug at the fang earing that had survived the Battle unscathed. "I've seen what can happen to witches and wizards who play with life and death, Mum. It's never good..."
> 
> George stopped paying attention to the others when his mother buried her tear-stained face in her hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to send a shout out to all those who are sticking with me through this story. This is my first attempt at anything multi-chaptered, and I had absolutely nothing planned. I'm quite literally just typing whatever comes into my head.
> 
> So thanks so much for putting up with my gastly grammar, my poor punctuation, my ridiculous run-on sentances, the atrocious auto-corrects from my phone. You are all darlings for ignoring the mess and providing me with enthusiasm and love. It truly makes me want to write more and more when I see comments and kudos every time I go to my works.


	5. While you were sleeping.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fred wakes and tensions rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Let's get the ball rolling on this whole Fremione thing, eh?

> -o-0-o-
> 
> Hermione and Ron made their way back into the Great Hall at Hogwarts hand in hand, eyes scanning the crowd that remained for a familiar red head or bespectacled brunette. Ron, being the taller of the two, found them first and made his way forward dragging Hermione along with him. Ginny glanced up at her brother, her lips pressing together so tightly they went thin. Harry noticed the silence of his companion after a few seconds and turned his head to look up at what had distracted her. Noticing his friends, he straightened from where he had been talking to a pair of fellow Gryffindors who had been part of the Battle and would be going home soon to celebrate and mourn with their families by that evening. A quick glance was shared between them before they moved away from the crowd and into the halls, looking for a secluded area where they could start clearing pathways and have a more discrete discussion.
> 
> Along the way the two boys stepped ahead of the girls, Harry extending his arm to pat Ron's shoulder. Ginny stepped up beside Hermione, leaning over to bump the older witch's shoulder with her own. "Hey, 'Mione? Thanks for before, y'know? Back in the dorm?"
> 
> Hermione shot a grin at Ginny as she righted herself, shrugging the offended shoulder lightly. "Think nothing of it, Ginny. I know you're going through a really tough time right now." She paused, her brow furrowing as the next words escaped her. "We've all lost someone in this war..."
> 
> Ginny grimaced at her friend's pause. "No one else's lost ones have come back, though."
> 
> Hermione lifted her gaze to rest on the back of Ron's head, the ginger locks coated in dust still from all the ruin around them. "No, they haven't."
> 
> The four of them made their way around a corner and came to the Grand Staircase, the one just at the entrance to the school. For the most part it was nearly inaccessible, but it would be important to clear it in order to increase the rebuilding efforts. The young witches and wizards pulled out their wands and began to slowly pluck away at the mess. This area of the castle would probably take the longest to clear. It was not the most damaged place, but it _was_ the entry point of Voldemort and his army. It was full of crumbled pillars, shattered walls; there were even uprooted trees strewn across the staircase and into the courtyard just past the doors.
> 
> While the boys scrambled over the mounds of rubble, finding the most stable places to stand and set to work clearing the places most likely to cause more damage if moved too quickly. Hermione and Ginny hung close to the edges of the entrance hall, making a path on either side by piling the rubble on top of itself farther from the wall. All four worked in silence mostly unless a warning need be given, or an idea for better placement. Most of the crumbled pieces of wall or staircase were banished to nothingness, as most was useless for rebuilding. Eventually, however, they were forced to realize that, though they _knew_ they were at least making a dent in the mayhem, they weren't getting anything done quickly by themselves. They mutually agreed they needed a break and went to the kitchens for something to eat. Once they were settled in an empty corridor, not far from what used to be the Room of Requirement, they started in on their roast beef sandwiches and bottles of pumpkin juice.
> 
> They spent the first couple of minutes quietly chewing on their food, Ron looking around them as though every crack and pile of rubble were the most interesting things he'd seen. Harry focused on the wall before them, and Hermione and Ginny stared at their sandwiches. Hermione hadn't been able to eat half of it before her hands dropped to her lap. She took a deep breath before slowly releasing it and drawing the attention of her three friends. "So...What are our thoughts on our...Situation? In the Hospital wing?"
> 
> Ginny opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a scoff from Ron. "What situation? It's obviously some copy, or mimic, or...or dark beast of some kind and we should just hand it over to the Ministry and be done with it!"
> 
> Ginny turned toward Ron, brow furrowed and eyes flashing dangerously. "Well, _I_ don't think it's best to come to any conclusion just yet. I mean," she turned to look at Hermione. "Sure. I really, _really_ want him to be Fred, and sure, _maybe_ that's influencing my thought processes a bit, but shouldn't we at the very least wait until he wakes up and we can talk to him?"
> 
> Ron dropped his empty plate on the ground, sliding it half way across the hall in frustration. "Great! So, we're just going to wait for another dark thing of unknown origins and _talk_ to it. 'Cause that worked out _so_ well for you last time!"
> 
> Ginny gasped and pulled herself into a kneeling position. "Ronald Weasley, don't you _dare_..."
> 
> Harry lifted his hands between his best friend and his girlfriend. "Woah, woah! Hold on one second! We are not going to be recovering from one Battle just to get into another one over something we don't know anything about yet!"
> 
> Hermione sighed, setting her plate down beside her and drawing her legs up to her chin. "Harry is right. We know nothing of what has happened. Or how this version of Fred came to be." She paused, running her fingertips over the marks carved into her arm absentmindedly. "He came from the Mirror of Erised. That's not an inherently dark artifact. However, other than that, we have no indication as to whether he is himself or not." She nodded at her own reasoning. "It is best to wait until he wakes before making any judgements."
> 
> Hermione turned to look to Ron, her heart sinking a bit at the undisguised disagreement and betrayal on his face. He turned from her, propping his arms up on knees as he leaned back against the wall, refusing to engage in the conversation past that point. 
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> It was several hours later when Hermione quietly slipped into the Hospital wing, finally showered and rather exhausted. She was unable to sleep, however, due to her nightmares, so she had taken to wandering through the halls. Her concerns regarding Fred had returned to her as she walked, and she had changed course to see if she would be able to make heads or tails of the whole situation. She was sure if she just spent time researching him and some of the remaining books of the school library, she would be able to come up with _something_.
> 
> She paused at the foot of his bed, looking at him in silence before turning her gaze to Mrs. Weasley. The matriarch of the Weasley family had fallen asleep on a chair not far from the bed Fred rested upon. She looked ragged, older than she seemed when Hermione saw her last. The younger witch summoned a blanket to her and tucked the corners around the red-headed woman she had come to view as a mother figure while her own mother had been unable to care for her. It caused Hermione no small amount of sadness to know what Molly had gone through these past several years.
> 
> Hermione turned her gaze once more. Across the bed from her sat George, still awake and hollowed eyes staring at the face that looked so much like his own. His hand still clutched the motionless one of his twin's doppelganger, and he seemed lost in his own mind. This caused Hermione to startle when he finally did speak, rather suddenly. "I can't feel him."
> 
> It took Hermione a second to calm her heart before she could reply. "Wh-what?"
> 
> George drew in a long, slow breath before he repeated himself. "I can't _feel_ him, Hermione. I've always been able to feel him. It's something we've been able to do for as long as I can remember. We could tell when the other was near, or hurting, or in danger...We could _feel_ each other. But now I..." George's voice broke a bit as he took another breath. "I can't feel him, 'Mione."
> 
> Hermione just looked at George, uncertain what she could possibly say to ease the pain she saw flickering across his features. She summoned another blanket as she walked around the bed to him, draping the fabric over his form. The witch ran her fingers over his hair, leaning down to place her forehead against his temple. "Why don't you sleep, George. I'll stay up with him. And if anything changes, you'll be the first I wake."
> 
> George nodded listlessly, slouching further into his chair before his eyes slowly began to close. "If you're watching him, maybe that'll be alright..."
> 
> Once Hermione was certain George was asleep, she pulled out her wand and her brow furrowed in concentration. George had given her reason to doubt this was really Fred. If their connection was something they'd always had, and now suddenly it was not there, then _who,_ or _what_ was this? She was determined to know before more harm came to this family. She began to discretely cast a series of detection spells over the revived Fred, trying to get a feel of whether or not he was something other than human, or if there was some dark spell work in play. But much as McGonagall had said earlier, she found absolutely no indication that he was anything other than what he appeared to be.
> 
> Quickly tiring once more, Hermione tucked her wand away with a sigh. She couldn't think of anything else she could do to find a solution this very second, and that frustrated her to no end. She would simply need to make time to get some research in the next day. Perhaps there was something about the Mirror in the Restricted Section that could give clues about this odd magic.
> 
> Hermione turned her eyes to drag her gaze over Fred's face. He looked the same as Fred should. He was bruised and battered and covered in cuts, but he was definitely someone she would identify as Fred. She tilted her head to one side, reaching out to him. "Don't worry. We'll get this figured out..."
> 
> As soon as Hermione's fingers slipped into Fred's palm, a huge jolt of magic shot up through her arm and into her chest then throughout her body, causing her to gasp in surprise. At first, it was just a rush, an overpowering sense of magic. Much like when she found her wand at Ollivander's, but ten times as strong. Like an explosion in her very soul. Then came pain. As though she were being crushed, and her legs grew weak. She fell to her knees, holding tight to the side of the bed to keep from toppling over completely. It was not the worst pain, nothing close to her time in Malfoy manor. She felt like her bones might barely be fractured, or her muscles bruised. She found herself with a pounding headache and a surge of unknown power.
> 
> When she finally came to herself, she groaned at the discomfort she now felt and looked up. She came to a sudden halt as she looked up into two identical pairs of eyes, one staring at her and the other flickering from her to his twin in the bed. It wasn't until that moment that Hermione realized just how tightly she and Fred were clinging to each other's hands. She turned her face to Fred, completely uncertain what to do. 
> 
> "Bloody hell, Granger," he croaked out. "What did you do?!"


	6. The Fifth Degree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which even Fred isn't sure he's Fred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Thank you all so much for your kindness and patience.

> -o-0-o-
> 
> "Bloody hell, Granger," Fred croaked out. "What did you do?!"
> 
> Hermione and George stared, wide-eyed and completely unsure of what to say or do or even think. Hermione continued to kneel at Fred's bedside, fingers clasped tightly around his, mouth opening and shutting as though trying to find an answer but coming up empty. George's eyes flicked back and forth between them for another several seconds before he spoke. "F-Freddie? You feeling alright, brother-mine?" His voice shook and sounded strained, almost child-like. His eyes flickered with a whirl of emotions fighting for dominance within him.
> 
> He settled with squeezing his twin's hand so tightly both sets of knuckles went white.
> 
> Fred winced at the tight vice-like grips that held both his hands captive, his brow furrowing as he looked from Hermione to his brother. "Sore, got a bit of a headache. Georgie, what is wrong with you? Between you and Granger I won't have any fingers left. Then who's gonna handle all the potions at the shop, huh?"
> 
> Hermione took a deep breath and let it out in a slow shudder, her brow furrowing as she thought. 'Sore'? 'Bit of a headache', he said? That was putting it mildly if he felt anything like she did at that moment. Her head was pounding, radiating through her skull from the base connected to her spine. Her body felt as though it were throbbing with every beat of her heart, and every last inch of her was surely covered in bruises. Where did these injuries suddenly come from?
> 
> Hermione's thoughts were halted when Fred spoke again. "So, wait. Why am I here, then? In the Hospital wing? Weren't we battling Death Eaters and ol' Moldy Warts just now?"
> 
> George shook his head slowly, a soft flicker of a smirk on his lips as relieved tears slowly began to escape down his face. "Nah, Gred. Harry's done beat that tosser...Blimey, was it only a couple days ago, 'Mione?"
> 
> Fred turned his face to Hermione, shock flung across his features as she nodded, still staring up at him with wide eyes. "Wha-! _'A couple of days,'_ he says! I was just fighting! You're telling me I was out for _days_?!"
> 
> Hermione hesitantly shook her head. "No. The Battle has been over for almost two days now. But you've only been out for about a day and a half..." Fred tilted his head to one side, looking thoroughly confused, so Hermione continued on. "What do you remember last, Fred?"
> 
> "Umm..." Fred started, his brow furrowing in thought. "Well, we were fighting, right? And Percy made a joke, 'cause we were up against his great pounce of a boss, and," Fred paused to release a soft chuckle, his lips twisting up into a smirk at the memory. "It was a good one. It was a great one, from him! Hadn't heard him joke in a while." Hermione cleared her throat, softly, bringing him back on track. "Oh, right. So, we're fighting and I, like a prat, got distracted and one of 'em...Rookwood, maybe? He got me. Had me up against a wall. There was an explosion..." Fred's voice slowly became more subdued as he spoke and a brief glance at George told Hermione he as trying very hard to not let the memory overcome him. "I felt rocks falling around me. One...One of them hit my wand arm. Merlin, that one hurt. Then I heard this loud, hollow ' _thud_ just at the back of my head." 
> 
> Hermione winced, releasing Fred's hand to reach back behind her head and rub at the sore spot there. George's eyes snapped toward Hermione, widening in surprise before flicking from her, to his brother's now empty hand and then back to her before Fred spoke again. "Suddenly everything was...it was..." Fred's words slowed until they stopped, and he stared almost unseeing down at the blanket that covered his lap.
> 
> "What is it, Freddie?" George asked, his attention retreating from Hermione to return to his twin. He gave the hand in his grip a slight shake to encourage his brother to continue speaking.
> 
> Fred took a deep breath before he spoke again. "It was dark. Pitch black. Couldn't see an inch in front of my nose. And I hurt. Merlin, I hurt all over. I've never felt anything like it. Ever in my life." George swallowed audibly, trying hard to not react and allow his brother to continue, for fear he wouldn't if his twin stopped him. "I was surrounded in what felt like almost boiling water. I couldn’t breath, and I couldn’t think it all hurt so bad. Then it was like I was being shoved up against a wall again but slow this time. Almost gently, y'know. But it didn’t stop. I kept feeling this push towards the wall almost like it would crush me or wanted to push me clean through. The wall wasn't budging so I was just being crushed. It...The wall, it felt like glass, so I started trying to get through it, pounding on it. If I could just break it, maybe the crushing would stop. I could get through."
> 
> Hermione lifted a hand to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. He had apparently already gone before the wall had crushed his former self, but this. This seemed so much worse. 
> 
> "The pain just kept getting worse and worse, and I just _couldn't_ breath. Finally, the glass cracked, and the water started rushing out. But it didn't shatter, I had to keep fighting to get through. When I finally did, all I remember is finally being able to take a breath, there was light, and then..." Fred turned to look at Hermione. "I woke up here, and you lot were trying to crush my fingers off."
> 
> Hermione blinked as Fred finished speaking, all the details zipping around in her brain, trying to make connections. She would definitely need to visit the library...After she could move again, that was. Hermione's attention returned to the twins across from her who were murmuring quietly between themselves, peeking at her occasionally from the corners of their eyes. It was rather frustrating to be excluded during that moment, when every extra bit of information should be shared so she could find a proper explanation. However, Hermione couldn't bring herself to disrupt them, given they'd each just lost their twin not long ago, to just now get him back. Hermione simply let out a frustrated huff and turned her eyes away to give them a moment. 
> 
> A moment they wouldn't actually get. 
> 
> It was then that Mrs. Weasley awoke, letting out a gasp and standing so quickly the chair beneath her gave a mighty screech, causing all three teens to startle and look over to her. "Freddie-?" she breathed out, astounded and hopeful. "M-my baby? Are you really awake?"
> 
> Fred blinked at his mother and it took a second for him to remember that he had been out for the better part of two days, so of _course_ his mum would be concerned. He still didn't understand why Hermione had said he'd only been out for part of the past two days, but he glanced her way and knew he would find out soon. "Yeah, Mum! 'Course I am! What, did you think some little thing like a wall was gonna knock me out for good?"
> 
> He must have said something wrong he thought, because Molly immediately burst into tears, threw her arms around him and very nearly would have dragged him off the bed if George hadn't reminded her of his injuries. Fred winced and pat his mother's back awkwardly, not quite sure that his injuries warranted quite _that_ much of a reaction. 
> 
> Molly looked across the bed, tears pouring from her eyes to smile at George before her tears stopped abruptly. She took in the sight of George slumping against the chair, his jaw clenched, then turned her attention to Hermione, who was still kneeling on the floor by the bed, clinging to it for support. 
> 
> "George? Hermione? What on earth is the matter with you two?"
> 
> Fred cleared his throat, acquiring his mother's attention. "We'll try to explain in a little bit, but for now, I think all of us could use a healer."
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Within half an hour two extra beds had been conjured, one for George, which was pressed close to Fred's, and one for Hermione. The entire Weasley tribe was present, each hovering in various stages of concern. Madam Pomfrey was flitting between the three beds, producing potions and waving her wand, while Professor McGonagall hovered close by, at the foot of Hermione's bed. Hermione winced as she swallowed down a vial of skelegrow, knowing she was in for a rough day.
> 
> George clung to Fred's free hand while Molly was attached to the other, patting her revived son's knuckles. Bill stood by the head of Fred's bed, between him and Hermione, while Ron sat upon the edge of her bed beside his eldest brother. Bill looked concerned and Ron was furious, clutching Hermione's hand in his until she fussed at him that he was holding too tightly. Ginny lay in Fred's bed, arms wrapped around his hips and face buried in his side. Harry sat on the far side of Hermione's bed, and standing at the foot of Fred's bed were Arthur, Charlie, and Percy, all with contemplative expressions upon their faces. Percy's brow furrowed so deeply he appeared to be in pain. 
> 
> Bill was asking Fred about what he remembered, and Fred reiterated his story to the rest of the family. All present winced at the description of Fred's ordeal since the death of his original self, save for Ron, who simply looked disbelieving and aghast that any in his family were believing this rubbish. 
> 
> Bill, Charlie, and Arthur all began asking various questions about Fred's past that they were certain only the original Fred would know, banking in many of the safety precautions used by the Order while at War with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He answered everything correctly, though a number of the Weasleys remained unconvinced. Hermione watched quietly as the family discussed concerns regarding the whole situation but being very careful to not disclose too much information to this new Fred. She could see him becoming increasingly frustrated and uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He'd never been treated in such a fashion by his family and it looked as though it hurt to be viewed as a potential threat by them. Especially when he was at a complete loss as to _why_ he would be suspicious in the first place.
> 
> Ron was beyond unhappy. He was fuming and the redder he became, the more Hermione shrank into the cushions of the bed, certain he was about to explode. It did not take as long for it to happen as she had hoped. "This is ridiculous!" He pointed an accusatory finger in Fred's direction. "This is _not_ Fred! Fred is dead! We mourned him! We all did!"
> 
> Hermione turned to look across at Fred at the strangled noise that left him. "Dead...?" he began to ask before Ron's fuming ran over his question.
> 
> "This is obviously some dark creature, some _thing_ meant to hurt us!" He lifted Hermione's hand up and shook it, none to gently, as proof of his assessment. "Just look what it did to Hermione! And to _George!_ The real Fred would never hurt George like this!"
> 
> The group collectively winced at that, all seeing the truth in that last statement. They could all admit that it would be entirely unlikely that Fred would have ever caused the amount of physical damage to George that his twin was now suffering. George turned his attention down to his sheet while Fred looked at him in shock and hurt.
> 
> Charlie spoke up then, bringing attention back to the potential there was for this being a true Fred. "Fred would never _intentionally_ cause this amount of harm, sure. But from what our 'Mione here has told us, he wasn't even conscious when it happened. He might not even be the one who caused the damage at all."
> 
> Bill nodded, his brow wrinkled in thought, the emotion tugging at the corners of his scars in an odd way. "That's true. An unknown magic brought him through the Mirror. Perhaps there is some kind of residual lingering that caused this?"
> 
> George lifted his gaze then. "But why, then, wouldn't it have happened before? He always had someone around him. I was always holding his hand. Mum was always here. Why would it happen when..."
> 
> George's words slowed as he turned wide eyes to Fred, whose brows rose after a second and both turned to Hermione. It took a second before the meaning of the look sunk into Hermione's mind, but she straightened with a surprised "Oh!" Before looking up to Professor McGonagall. "Me? Could I have done something? I hadn't laid a hand on him until this morning..."
> 
> Minerva tilted her head to the side slightly, deep in thought before spreading her hands out before her. "I've no idea. Everything about this whole situation is completely unheard of. There is no definitive way of knowing what has caused it."
> 
> Fred cleared his throat, roughly, waving his hand through the air dismissively. "Hey, this is all interesting and all, and we should definitely revisit the topic later, but can we get back to the me _dying_ thing for a moment, hmm?"
> 
> Everyone looked around to each other, a couple of them clearing their throats and some shuffling from side to side. Fred was just starting to look extremely irritated when Hermione spoke up. "Fred Weasley was crushed to death beneath a wall when an explosion caused it to crumble."
> 
> Fred turned to stare at her eyes wide in shock, and she glanced around at the Weasleys before continuing, not sure she should be the one explaining this to their child. "It wasn't until several hours later that I found the Mirror of Erised and saw you there, and then hours after that before Professor McGonagall found you scrambling out of it. No one really knows what's happening, but right now, there are two Fred Weasleys in this world. One of them is dead, and the other, by all known magics, shouldn't even exist."
> 
> "That's no bloody lie," Ron grumbled, receiving a sharp pinch to his side from Hermione, who didn't even look his way.
> 
> Fred turned from Hermione to look at all his siblings, pulling his hand from Molly's grip to run it softly over Ginny's hair. He looked as though he was starting to understand her reaction to seeing him, now. He looked up to his father. "I...I don't understand..." 
> 
> Arthur cleared his throat and nodded, looking just as lost as Fred did. "Neither do we."
> 
> Fred nodded, clearing his throat and glancing down at his lap. "So, you're trying to figure out if I'm actually Fred or not, then? Having any luck with it?" His lips twitched in a half-hearted smirk that did nothing to hide the fear there. 
> 
> Charlie grinned, shrugging one shoulder casually. "Well, little bro, if it wasn't already obvious, George, Ginny, and I all believe you're you..."
> 
> Molly interrupted her son to lean towards Fred and run her fingers through his hair. "Of _course_ you're my boy! My baby."
> 
> Bill and Arthur exchanged a glance between themselves before Bill took a breath. "You know we _want_ you to be our Fred, but...None of us know any logical, realistic way for this to be possible. You know dad and I will probably be keeping a close eye on you. Just to be certain. Our family has been affected by dark magic enough, y'know?"
> 
> Fred looked up to his eldest brother, then down along his bed to his father. Both looked hopeful, but concerned, and thinking over the whole situation, or what he knew of it, Fred couldn't blame them. What if he _wasn't_ who he appeared to be? What if he _did_ hurt them. It would kill him. 
> 
> Again, if what his family said was true. 
> 
> Ron scoffed. "Are you all mad? How can you seriously...? Your son...Your brother...He lays dead, growing colder in our _sitting room,_ and you're what? Just going to forget him? Because this thing is living and _looks_ like him?!" Ron turned to Hermione, eyes flashing angrily. "Hermione? Tell them they're bonkers!"
> 
> Hermione looked around herself until her eyes landed on Harry, who shrugged. "Hey, if I can die and come back to life, why not Fred? Especially when it has something to do with you, 'Mione. I'm with Ginny."
> 
> Ron turned a betrayed expression towards Harry. "What? Just because my sister is delusional?!"
> 
> Hermione turned her eyes from her best friends to look over at Fred. The twin had just lowered his gaze to his lap, his thoughts visible upon his features as his brow furrowed and he gnawed at his lips. He looked so pitiful, not at all like himself. But what changes might death have caused in him? And this was such a difficult situation. It would take its toll on all of them. After a few moment's thought and listening quietly to the bickering between her two friends and Ginny, Hermione answered, "I...Think it wise to be cautious. This is, after all, a situation that has _never_ occurred in the magical world before..."
> 
> Ron's chest puffed out and his chin lifted. "Finally, some reason...!"
> 
> "However," Hermione interrupted Ron's interjection. "I also wish to believe that, somehow, Fred has returned to us. To his family and loved ones, that is. It may be best to keep him close, until we know more."
> 
> Fred's face lifted, and he and George looked across at Hermione with some of the most hopeful expressions she'd ever seen. 
> 
> Ron stood, scowling. "Great! That's just great! Well, when he finally gets around to killing us all, don't any of you be surprised when I say I told you so!" The furious youngest brother stormed out of the room, his shoulder brushing by Percy's who had an odd look on his face and refused to look up at his family. "I..." he started before pausing to take a deep breath. "I _saw_ my little brother die. Right before my eyes. And I was the reason for it... I...I can't..." he paused again, looking up at the ceiling. When he spoke again, it was in his usual clipped tone, something of a defense mechanism that Hermione recognized. "It is not possible to raise the dead. He _can't_ be the real Fred. I'm sorry." He lowered his eyes to his mother then his father. "I'll keep in touch. I'll see you for dinner on Sunday. I want to go and help rebuild the Ministry."
> 
> Percy left awkwardly after he had voiced his opinion, following after Ron, and Molly stifled a sob. Fred reached up to run a hand over his mother's hair. "Don't worry, Mum. The great prat _did_ promise to come visit. It's not like last time." 
> 
> Molly nodded before calming herself and looking across to her husband, eldest son and McGonagall. "We will need to discuss what we are to do in the next couple of weeks, but let it wait for after dinner. These three need to rest."
> 
> The large family began to shift, some nodding in agreement, Harry and Charlie reaching out to help Ginny out of Fred's hospital bed and out the door with a quick, "Try not to kill us all before we've had a welcome back to life party, eh Fred? Would be an absolute waste!" from a teasing Charlie. Hermione glanced at the twin's as they huffed tentative chuckles after their brother. Her brown eyes trailed away from them to watch Arthur, McGonagall, and Bill gather at the door, whispering among themselves and waiting for Molly to join them. The plump mother of the lot sighed and placed a vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion in each hand.
> 
> "You'll need this soon enough, each of you, as soon as that Skelegrow kicks in." Molly pat the heads and cheeks of each of her boys, leaving them with a loving expression before she turned and clasped Hermione's face in both hands, tears threatening to spill once more. "Thank you. For waking my baby up for me." Hermione, feeling rather awkward and flushing scarlet at the appreciation being expressed towards her, cleared her throat roughly and nodded. She was completely uncertain of how to respond to Mrs. Weasley and decided to simply lay back in the pillows of her hospital bed. Molly nodded and turned to join the group at the door, lifting a hand to motion to Madam Pomfrey that they were leaving and would return the next morning. 
> 
> After few moments, the noise around them began to fade, and the light outside had just barely begun to brighten. Fred looked down at the vial in his hand and sighed. "Hope Poppy has more of this brewing. This won't last us until tonight, much less til morning." George nodded, rubbing his own vial between his palms. Hermione sighed and lifted hers up to her face, eyes measuring it out.
> 
> "I'm sure she does. They are doing their best, after all that has happened in the past couple days...Seems as though anybody able to brew potions even half competently is doing so..." she murmurs to herself, hearing a slight hum from George. 
> 
> Silence overtook them for a few moments, the prickling pain of the skelegrow really starting to sink in, causing Hermione to shift in her bed. But she did not want to take her potion until the other two had, and that frustrated her, because she didn’t really understand why she felt like that. 
> 
> The silence was broken when Fred cleared his throat, bringing two pairs of eyes to him. "So...Uh...I was crushed by a wall, huh?" George winced, and Hermione nodded. Fred sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "That dull _'thud'_ on the back of my head?"
> 
> George remained sullenly silent as Hermione answered, "Most likely."
> 
> Fred nodded again before a sly smile slinked across his lips. "And _you_ , Granger m'dear, saw _me_ in the depths of the Mirror of Erised, hmm? Well!" he continued in a teasing tone as Hermione stared at him with wide and wary eyes as George chuckled. "Not that I can blame You! I _am_ the better-looking twin, after all!"
> 
> Hermione let out a sound of surprise mixed with disbelief. "I had just seen your _entire_ family crying over your body for _hours_ , Fred! Of course I wanted nothing more than for you to be alive so they wouldn't have to grieve!"
> 
> Fred winced at the reprimand, his arms lowering from behind his head to rest in his lap. George reached over to pat Fred's shoulder while he watched Hermione's face go from affronted to flustered to apologetic. He didn't seem to hold her reaction against her. He knew how frustrating Fred could be when he got into his be-playful-so-I-don't-look-disturbed moods. "Ah, don't worry about it, Freddie-boy. You know how delicate our 'Mione here is! She didn't mean any harm. Besides, she brought the connection back, so things'll get better soon."
> 
> Hermione jerked up straight in her bed to look over at them. "You can feel him again?!" Her eyes were wide in wonder, begging for more information. This odd twin connection thing Fred and George had going on was like nothing Hermione had ever heard of before, and she desperately wanted to know more about it. 
> 
> George nodded in response look back at Fred. "I...Couldn't feel you there for a while, Gred. Had me worried." Fred reached up to grasp George's hand in his, eyes pained before turning back to Hermione. "Well, looks like Granger's a bit of a miracle worker, hmm?"
> 
> Hermione cleared her throat and shifted again as a particularly painful stab slid between her skull and her top vertebrae. She glanced up to see both the twins wore similarly pained expressions and were rubbing the back of their necks, as though all three felt the same pain at the same time. The twin's lifted their eyes to her and their gazes flitted from one to another before George let out a groan. "Alright, that was weird, but we'll talk about it when no one has any bone fractures, alright?" The other two nodded in agreement and, one by one, drank their Dreamless Sleep Potions.


	7. You Are Who You Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is heartache and jealousy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> That last chapter is actually only half of what I had _wanted_ to write, but it was taking so long to get it all out of my head. And then life happened, as it tends to do. I've done my best to get into the swing of things again.
> 
> So this is the rest of it!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

> -o-0-o-
> 
> A few days had gone past and the three had healed up nicely. There was no longer any concern that one of them would not wake, and so the family, including Harry, Hermione, and professor McGonagall, could all focus on the conundrum before them.
> 
> What to do with the Freds?
> 
> The first order of business, of course, needed to be the burial of the original Fred. This was a matter handled quietly, without any ceremony or announcements made. Nobody relished the thought of what could happen if the Daily Profit, or the Ministry caught wind that Fred had died and come back again. Explaining such things would be difficult. Not to mention dangerous for Fred. Who knew what amount of poking and prodding and tests the ministry might do? Any rumors that spread that Fred had died where quickly 'corrected' by the Weasley family. They would explain that he had simply been near death. That his injuries had been extensive, but by some wondrous miracle, he had survived. Which was true enough, as far as any of them knew. So, as quickly and as quietly as possible, the Weasleys, save for Fred and Hermione, had gathered under a tree near the pond by the Burrow and laid the body of their son and brother to rest. Even George had gone to mourn, knowing that as far as he was concerned Fred lived. But this first vessel was important. It was the one he was brought into the world beside, and the loss did sting. 
> 
> Hermione remained in the Hospital Wing of the school with the second Fred. There was a mutual consensus that it would, perhaps, be best if he was not faced with his own lifeless corpse.
> 
> Fred paced the floor of the Hospital Wing, helping Madam Pomfrey when asked, assisting in brewing healing potions, and occasionally staring out the window lost in thought. Hermione was also assisting, her attention shifting from a book laid on a table before her to the three different cauldrons in which she had brewing three different potions. All the while also continued to tentatively peek up at Fred as he wandered. They seemed to be tip-toeing around the subject of Fred's funeral, neither sure how to broach the rather confusing subject. Hermione knew that, as it was for the rest of them, the whole situation left Fred confused and frustrated. Perhaps even a bit scared, though it was difficult to think of either of the twins being scared. Hermione assumed it looked an awful lot like this. 
> 
> Hermione had just peeked up to take another glance at Fred only to find his eyes trained on her as well. She paused and straightened as he briskly strode toward her, pausing just across the table from her. She was glad for the barrier. The look on his face was rather intense and she was not sure how to react to his sudden proximity. 
> 
> "Who do you think I am?" Fred asked, his voice a bit harsh and garbled sounding. He cleared his throat in an attempt to make himself clearer, took a deep breath as though bracing himself, and continued. "Do you think I'm really who I think...who I _feel_ I am?"
> 
> Hermione's stance softened a bit and she turned her head to the side as her eyes travelled over Fred's features, until focusing back up to meet his eyes. She seemed to take forever just studying what she found in them before she responded. "You are who you tell me you are, Fred," she said simply.
> 
> Fred looked stunned and he stared at the young woman as though he were dangling from a sheer cliff and she was his only hand hold in sight. "Thank you, 'Mione," he whispered, his eyes still focused on her.
> 
> Hermione's world focused in on those words, more reverence and thankfulness in that simple sentence than she had ever heard from a Weasley Twin. It wasn't until the sound of a potion bubbling broke her thoughts that she realized she was staring, and the intensity in his gaze caused a bright flush to explode over her. She cleared her own throat and turned back to the bubbling potions, completely missing the moment his gaze softened into a different kind of intensity all together. 
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> It was not long after the funeral that Fred and Hermione returned to the Burrow. And things were tense. Perhaps tense was an understatement given the hurt and confusion filtering through the whole family. Molly, of course, was her normal, loving self. Perhaps a bit more clingy and overbearing than she had been, but she had very nearly lost a number of members of her family, so no one could really blame her. Percy and Ron seemed to have the most trouble of them all in adjusting to their unique situation. Percy did as he had promised and came home for Sunday dinners, but anything more often was hard when he was still dealing with the guilt over Fred's death. Ron seemed to live in the Joke shop, working in Fred's place to rebuild it and the flat upstairs. He refused to come home more often than not and was furious that Hermione and Harry stayed. He was concerned for their safety, still holding to his belief that Fred was some dark beast or magic there to destroy them all.
> 
> No one could blame him, either. Nobody had managed to find any other explanation for how Fred had returned to them, yet. It was a miracle if one listened to Molly, Ginny, Charley, and George, a disaster if one listened to Ron, inconceivable to Percy, and a matter of concern for Bill and Arthur. Hermione and Harry did all they could do to support each member of their honorary family, both just happy to have all of the members of the Weasleys within their reach.
> 
> Fred was at odds as well, as one could only expect. He was dealing with a great deal of conflicting emotions and thought processes. He felt the weight of what had happened to him on his chest constantly. There were times where Molly would just cling to him, patting his hair and fighting back tears. It was hard for Molly to let him out of her sight. If she was the only one, it would probably be easier for him to handle, but that was not the case. The eldest Weasley brother was home more often than ever before as well, under the guise of helping the Wizarding world in Britain to put itself to rights again, primarily Gringotts. However, Fred could feel his brother's gaze on him, calculating and watchful. It was nerve-wracking, no matter how well he understood the caution. He was not sure what to make of himself, either. _Was_ he some dark copy? _Was_ he a danger to his family? Perhaps there _was_ some lingering darkness within him that lay dormant out of his reach. He didn't know, so how could he expect his family to? He found himself distancing himself from some of his family in an attempt to minimize the chances of harm coming to any of them. All he wanted was to return to his flat with his twin and business partner and try to get his life back into some semblance of normal.
> 
> Hermione spent most of her time behind piles of books in the Weasley's sitting room, trying fervently to find something, _anything_ that might give her some insight as to what happened with the Mirror of Erised. There was, however, very few texts that even mentioned it. This didn't surprise Hermione over much. Such artifacts had a habit of being kept secret by their creators. Wizards tended to be jealous and secretive about their accomplishments, especially those ancient pureblooded ones. Still, she persisted, flipping doggedly through book after book, taking her tea in herself imposed solitude. Ron was starting to become increasingly agitated with what he considered an unnecessary task. A not so small part of him felt almost disregarded, which was heartbreaking as the pair had only _just_ managed to come to terms with their feelings for each other. These feelings of frustration and distress only worsened with time, especially when Fred began joining Hermione in the sitting room, reading through the dusty tomes in an attempt to be useful and distract himself from his own wadering thoughts.
> 
> This became a subject of many an argument between the two friends turned lovers. Ronald fumed and tossed random books across the room and Hermione steadfastly stood her ground, insisting that Fred had done her no harm in all their hours alone together, that he was actually rather brilliant and an asset in the search for answers. Besides, if it turned out Fred _was_ a danger to them, that was all the more reason to do the research she was engaged in. These arguments were never resolved in a manner that left either party satisfied, and more often than not left a bedraggled and irritable Hermione surrounded in scattered books and notes with a wary Fred pretending to not even be in the room.
> 
> Hermione had been honest. She was finding out more and more just how smart the twins actually were. Absolutely brilliant, in fact. She had never really taken the time to notice how much intelligence, ingenuity, and raw talent they had while in school. She was so concerned with maintaining the peace and safety of all the younger students under her care and influence. She had noticed during that first visit to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes but had since allowed the surprise and wonder to slip her mind. She still disapproved of a number of their products, the Love Potions in particular, however she stood in awe of the twins' accomplishments more than ever, growing more and more amazed by them. She had mentioned this at one point, to which Fred had responded by cupping his cheeks in his hands. "By Merlin's saggy drawers, I never thought I'd see the day when the _Perfect Prefect_ Hermione Granger would _ever_...!"
> 
> "Oh, shut up, Fred," Hermione snapped, returning to her books and unable to hold back the slight grin that flickered across her face.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Eventually it became necessary to speak to those outside of the family. There were so many who were certain that they had seen Fred's body, cold and lifeless on the floor. Arthur had told any Daily Profit reporters that had accosted him outside of work that he had been grievously injured, but through diligent care by Madame Pomfrey, had miraculously pulled through. Percy did much the same if pressed, but usually directed curious bystanders to his father or brothers. George was happy to proclaim that Madame Pomfrey and Headmistress Minnie were miracle workers and labored through the night to snatch his twin out of the clutches of Death himself. The telling of the tale becoming more elaborate as the days went on.
> 
> Eventually they had a visit from a couple of their closest friends, Angelina specifically. Fred and Angelina had been dating before the War had completely taken over and so many Members of the Order had gone into hiding. They had intended to rekindle their connection once all was said and done, on the chance that they had both survived. However, Angelina had seen Fred's body, had laid her hands on him, known beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had passed from the world. She had to be told the truth.
> 
> The twins and Angelina had gone on a walk, to visit the original Fred's grave. Molly was a nervous, twitching mess watching them go worried that Fred being there would be far too much. But the three were determined to have a moment alone so that Angelina could be given as much of the details as she desired and be given the time to make a decision of her own, without pressure from the rest of the Weasleys baring down on her.
> 
> It was several hours before any sign of the three were noted, and it was Hermione who saw George and Angelina come round the corner to the apparition point. Hermione sat on the steps of the Burrow with a book in her lap, watching as George put a hand on Angelina's shoulder. The young woman looked paler than Hermione had ever seen her, and she reached up to scrub what must have been tears from her stricken face. She shook her head, spoke a few more words to George and disappeared with a small _'crack'_. When George turned back to the Burrow Hermione tried to look as nonchalant as she could, but she knew she was failing miserably as she kept peeking up to watch his approach. She glanced around a number of times, attempting to find Fred in the field as well, but he never appeared.
> 
> George took the couple of steps toward the door, past Hermione, but paused hesitantly. Hermione could hear his fingers tap against the doorknob and she turned her face to look up at him. His brow was furrowed in thought as he looked down to his shoes and he opened his mouth and shut it again several times before deciding to finally speak. "That...Did not go as we had hoped."
> 
> Hermione's brow furrowed as well at that knowledge. What had happened, then? "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice soft and nervous.
> 
> George winced at the question and lifted his head to stare at the door. "Fred's down by his grave. Asked if I'd give him some time. But I'm worried 'bout him." He paused before taking a breath and continuing. "Think maybe you could go check on him? Bet he could use the support."
> 
> Hermione tilted her head in confusion. "But...George, what support can I give that you..."
> 
> George shook his head and interrupted. "Nah, he doesn't need me right now. Needs someone not quite as close to this particular situation. Please, 'Mione?"
> 
> Hermione sat, surprised at the sad quality to George's voice. She'd not heard it since the Hospital Wing. It made her nervous, so she simply nodded her head. "Sure, George. I'll go check on him."
> 
> Hermione sat still for a few moments, pondering in her head what George must have been thinking. Why would she have any luck where George had been asked to leave? It didn't make much sense, but Hermione was a woman of her word. She stood with a soft _'huff'_ and started down the path towards Fred and the grave. She wandered through the damp grass, the sun hidden behind thick clouds and a drizzle threatening to fall harder as each second went by. It did not take her long to find him. His shock of red hair stood out among the dreary surroundings. She paused for a moment, just watching him as he stood, neither of them moving much. After a few heartbeats Hermione step forward, gingerly picking her way through the tall, damp grass until she stood about an arm’s length away from Fred, by his side. Neither spoke, and Hermione could feel the silence pushing in on her. She had just opened her mouth to speak when he began.
> 
> "We told her. Angelina. We told her everything. About me dying. And then coming back. How we don't know how it happened, or why. That we don't even know if I'm actually Fred or not." Fred fiddled with a small weed in one hand, rolling it between his fingers as the other tucked warmly in his pocket.
> 
> Hermione shifted from one foot to the other before she responded. "How did she take it?"
> 
> Fred let out a derisive huff, have chuckle, half sob. "She...She can't. Can't handle the situation. It's too much."
> 
> Hermione let out a little disbelieving exhalation and was about to voice her displeasure when Fred shook his head. "It's alright. She wasn't cruel about it. It was breaking her heart, really." He paused, tossing the shredded weed toward the mound of dirt where his original lay. "She had mourned me, you know. Saw the dead body on the floor. Laid her hands on it. She was actively in the process of making her peace with it when she came here. And it was too much. She has no better chance of knowing I'm actually Fred than any of us do. She was scared..."
> 
> Hermione's face crumpled as she listened, a single tear trailing hotly down her cheek as she listened. She reached up to scrub it away before turning back to the grave. "I'm so sorry, Fred."
> 
> Fred shrugged and reached up to run his hands roughly over his face before letting them drop to his sides. "I can't blame her. Even _I_ don't know if I'm really Fred or not. How can I expect her to?"
> 
> Hermione was at a loss and wasn't sure what to say. So instead she wordlessly reached out to tangle her fingers in Fred's, squeezing them to offer support. A warm rush burst through their joined hands, causing them to jump and stare at each other in surprise. It was a familiar feeling, much like the time in the Hospital Wing. Neither was sure how to react to it, but neither released their grip, either.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Just as Hermione knew would be the case, Ron was waiting for her return, fuming. She glanced up towards the Burrow, watching him pace and stomp and kick at the grass. Her own footsteps halted for a moment as she decided whether or not she would just run away until he had calmed down. She was growing weary of their constant bickering. She didn't know how much more of it she could handle.
> 
> Fred noticed her absence from his side and stopped his progress as well to turn and look over her with concern. "'Mione?"
> 
> The bushy-haired witch cleared her throat lightly and tilted her head towards the young man near the Burrow and Fred turned his head once again to figure out what had caused his friend pause. "Ah. He looks a right prat today, doesn't he. Best get it over with." Hermione nodded in agreement to the last bit and continued on their way to home.
> 
> As soon as Ron noticed them he came storming towards his brother and girlfriend. "What are you doing with that?!" he spat at Hermione, waving a dismissive hand towards Fred.
> 
> Hermione stopped short, concerned that Ron's erratically waving hands might catch her off guard. "Your brother has had a rather difficult day, and I am attempting to comfort and support him. Which is more than I can say for you," she replied to what could only be described as an accusation. 
> 
> "That thing not my brother!" Ron ground out from behind clenched teeth, glare shifting from Hermione to Fred, distress evident in his gaze.
> 
> Fred opened his mouth to reply. It would have been something snarky or sarcastic, Hermione was sure. She didn't want the situation to escalate any further, so she cut the eldest brother off. "You don't know that!" she snapped. " None of us know that! But it's been days and he's been nothing but kind and helpful and brilliant and you've been a right arse!"
> 
> The two red-heads turned their faces to her, their jaws dropped. Neither had expected her to say such things about them, and her words had shocked them silent. Sadly, it only bought her a few moments of peace before they regained their wits. A smirk began to creep along Fred's features, whereas Ron's face became even brighter red and more cross. He sputtered in indignation, "Yeah, well you've been spending all your time with him, and completely ignoring me!" Hermione rolled her eyes at what she could only describe as childish whining. "You're supposed to be my girlfriend, I thought! So, shouldn't you _try_ to spend more time with me now?"
> 
> "Oh, don't be so ridiculous! I am doing everything I can to research the cause of your family's current circumstance, and you know how I get when I'm trying to work on something like that!” Hermione’s hair began to lift about the edges as she ran her fingers through it in frustration. “Everything I'm doing right now I'm doing for _your_ family."
> 
> "For my family?" Ron interrupted, scoffing at her and crossing his arms over his chest. "Sure! Of course you are. It's doesn't look at all like you're making up for lost time with the 'right' Weasley, does it? You just wanted Fred all along, didn't you?!"
> 
> Fred and Hermione turned shocked gazes to Ron this time, Hermione's mouth working like a fish out of water in astonishment. "Th-the _right_ Weasley. Ron, what are you _on_ about?"
> 
> Hermione saw George come out of the Burrow from the corner of her eye, probably alerted to trouble brewing by the ruckus beginning to swell outside. It wasn't until Fred draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders that her attention was brought back to the present argument. "Yeah, well, who could blame her? She probably finally figured out she needed someone with half a brain."
> 
> Ron scowled at the copy of his brother, a snarl escaping from his lips. Hermione turned to Fred to admonish him, however she did not bother to remove his arm from her. "That's not true, Fred. Ron is actually rather clever."
> 
> "That's right!" Ron snapped, reaching out to pull Hermione away from Fred by her arm as he shoved at the older man. "So back off!" George was suddenly there, reaching out to lay a hand on Fred's shoulder before the shove turned into a fight. Both twins' faces turned steely as Ron turned sharply away to the Burrow, dragging Hermione along with him.
> 
> "Ow, Ron!" Hermione hissed. "You're hurting my arm!"
> 
> George had to put an arm around the front of Fred's shoulders to stop his twin from dashing after them as though to save the damsel in distress. They both knew that wouldn't end well, but it was difficult to remain where they were when their prat of a brother was mishandling someone who was supposed to be important to him. "Hold it, brother mine." George murmured in a soothing drawl. "Hermione's a big girl. She can handle it." He patted a still shaking Fred's shoulder. "Besides, if we burst in there to rescue her, she'll be right angry with us, hmm? For not letting her handle her own problems."
> 
> Fred glared at the door as it snapped shut so intensely that he nearly set it ablaze but allowed his brother to guide him away for a bit. 
> 
> *-o-0-o-*
> 
> Ron did not stop dragging Hermione through the Burrow until they were up in what used to be his room. He all but hauled her into the room and turned to shut the door with a slam. Hermione was finally able to pry his fingers off her arm and survey the damage. The skin was red there in the shape of his fingers. She would likely develop bruises. To say that she was unhappy about this would be a dreadful understatement. Her venomous glare halted Ron in his tracks as he had made his way back to her. "What the bloody Hell is your problem, Ronald Weasley?!"
> 
> Ron came up short, staring at Hermione in surprise and no small amount of fear. It had been some time since she had looked at him with such ferocity, and this time she had her wand instead of Harry. "I...I'm trying to _protect_ you, Hermione!" he started before he was interrupted by a shove.
> 
> "Protect me!" Hermione screeched. "Protect me from what? Someone who hasn't harmed me once in the weeks we've spent time alone together?" Ron shifted from one foot to the other in awkward frustration. Hermione did not give him the chance to answer. "The only one in this house to do me any harm has been _you_!"
> 
> Ron reacted then, stepping close to Hermione to rest his hands on her shoulders. "Hurt you, Hermione? No! I wouldn't! That's not what I....I don't...I love y-" Ronald had pressed close to Hermione and appeared to have been attempting to kiss her in some misguided attempt to show her his affection and best intentions. The witch was having none of it. With a groan of frustration and disbelief she braced herself and shoved away at Ron with all her force, dislodging the much larger wizard.
> 
> "No, Ronald! Don't you dare! Don't you try to smooth this out with sweet words and kisses. You're a right arse, and you've left marks on me. Don't come near me again until I'm _ready_ to have anything to do with you!" She stormed to the door and yanked it open before looking back at him, a storm flashing in her eyes. "And don't expect that to happen any time soon." She shut the door behind her with a slam, leaving behind a thoroughly confused and hurt Ron.


	8. Maybe I've Changed my Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything changes direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters within these works of fiction are not my own, nor is the story from which they originated. All credit for them goes to J.K. Rowling. I have made no profit from the creation of these stories and claim only the plots. Such as they are.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> I got excited to be writing again and so here's another chapter. Enjoy!

> Things were tense at the Burrow for the next couple of weeks. Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells, and most didn't really know why. The family had determined that Hermione had had an argument with Ron, but outside of that, they weren't sure of much else. Hermione was quick to anger, snapping at the slightest provocation. She was short with everyone, and even she noticed it. She didn't feel right, taking out her hurt and frustration on the family that had taken her into their home and cared for her as though she were one of them. So, she buried herself in her research, growing even more frustrated with the continued lack of information on what could have happened to Fred.
> 
> Ron, on the other hand, was distraught. No amount of teasing from his siblings, or favorite meals from his mother brought out much more than a flickering smile from him, before he retreated back into himself. This caused more than a little bit of displeasure from Molly in Hermione's direction. The matriarch of the family was never hurtful purposefully to Hermione. After all, she still wanted the young woman to be happy and healthy. But her baby boy was hurting, and Hermione was the only connection Molly had to that. She became rather defensive of her son, understandably so. Hermione tried her best to not take the plump woman's distance from her to heart. After all, she still had Harry.
> 
> Harry found himself on Hermione's side this time. He didn't know all the details, but he had found out that Hermione had been harmed in some altercation, and she still had the bruises from it on her elbow. Hermione assured her best friend that Ron had not hit her or attacked her in any way. So, in that way, she had stopped an angry outburst from Harry. But the bespectacled young man did start leaving a room if Ron came in or shooting him cool glances from time to time. The rest of the Weasleys tiptoed around the subject, for the most part.
> 
> Fred noticed after a couple of days that Hermione had been wearing long sleeved shirts and jumpers fairly exclusively since the argument. He never brought it up, though. As a matter of fact, he didn't seem to speak much anymore unless George was there, egging him on with whatever prank they are attempting to lighten the mood with. He continued to help Hermione with her research, barely ever saying anything other than a quick 'Good Morning' or 'How can I help, today?' After about a week of this, near the end of the evening once the rest of the house had gone to bed, Fred decided he had had enough of the eggshells. He placed his book down on the table between them, before reaching out to gently pull the book out of Hermione's hands as well. Before she could protest, he also pulled her quill, inkwell, and parchment from her. 
> 
> "Granger..." he started, pausing with a grimace and looking around the room. Hermione's brow furrowed, and she tilted her head to one side, her confusion and frustration causing her features to crinkle. Fred cleared his throat, having decided what he was trying to say. "Look. I'm...I'm sorry. About that night, with Ron. I...Should not have egged him on like I did. I _incendioed_ an already blistering fire and in the process made things much harder for you." He winced, turning his gaze back to her trying to convey his earnestness to her.
> 
> Hermione gazed intensely at Fred's eyes, studying him to see if she could discern whether or not he was being fully serious. After a few tense moments she sighed, shoulders drooping a bit as she leaned forward to rest her cheek on the table top.
> 
> "It's not all your doing, Fred. I won't let you take all the blame." She turned her head just enough to glance up at him from her slumped position. "Ron has always been jealous. And I suppose what happened with the Mirror and with _you_ simply aggravated it. And my habit of completely embedding myself in research probably wasn’t helping his own insecurities any."
> 
> Fred allowed for one of his patented teasing smirks to flicker across his features. "Oh, you mean the whole 'Hermione saw me in the Mirror that shows our heart's deepest desires' thing?"
> 
> Hermione sent him what was supposed to be a sharp look but shook her head with a reluctant chuckle instead.
> 
> "I had just spent _hours_ watching your family mourning and sobbing over your corpse. Of _course_ you alive would be the thing I would want the most! Molly has been like a mother to me. Your family is my family and I don't ever want to see them like that again." Hermione's smile had slowly faded as she continued to speak, a hollow, far-away look growing in her eyes. Fred watched as the change occurred before him, his own smile fading as he listened.
> 
> "And poor Ron...he's always had an inferiority complex when it comes to his brothers. You know that better than me, I'm sure." Hermione rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her clasped hands.
> 
> Fred shook his head, a flash of annoyance across his face alerted Hermione to his frustration with his youngest brother. "I kinda get it, you know. Sure, the youngest son is gonna feel like he has a lot to live up to. Especially with older brothers as cool as his all were." Fred paused, distracting himself with a joke and calming his own irritation with a quick, "Except for Percy, of course. The great ponce never was any fun at all until the Battle at Hogwarts." The reminder of that moment sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. She didn't wish to think on it. "But, Mum _adores_ Ron. I mean. He's her youngest son. Her baby. Sure, Ginny's the youngest of us, and Mum's only daughter, and she's a brilliant spit-fire to boot. But Ron is special to Mum in a way the rest of us just..." He shook his head, turning his gaze to Hermione. "Mum loves us all! Each of us! I know that. I'm not saying she has favorites, because i don't think it's possible for her to, unless you count Ginny. But Ron doesn't seem to get how he doesn't need to do anything super special to be the center of Mum's whole world."
> 
> Hermione watched Fred in surprise. She had not ever thought she'd hear such from Fred about Ronald before. And as such, she was uncertain how to respond. "I...I always knew Ron was just as loved by his mother as any of her children. He's just so blinded by his jealousy..." 
> 
> "He's going to have to learn to get past that. Especially if he wants the woman he loves to be able to stand to be around him." Fred said, almost tentatively.
> 
> Hermione's gaze lowered down to the table, her fingers twisting together in anxious thought. She nodded in agreement before taking a deep breath and standing. "Tea, Fred? I could use a warm-up."
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> It was an early morning that found Fred down in the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea in hand. He was chilled and tired, having been woken in the middle of the night by one of his more common nightmares. One in which he was trapped in that burning water, unable to get out of the mirror, left feeling as though he may drown before it woke him. It caused him to shudder as he thought back on how his dream self struggled and flailed in useless attempts to free himself and breathe. Trying to distract himself, he took a long slow sip of his tea, peeking up from behind the rim when the door opened.
> 
> He raised a brow when it was Ron who came through the door, yawning and stumbling until he saw the prankster sitting at the table. Fred didn't react any more than he had and simply went back to his tea. Ronald said nothing, halting still just in the door until he realized Fred wasn't going to say anything. The younger of the two made his way to the kettle with the still hot water and made himself his own cup of tea. They stayed that way, silent for a time, Fred not bothering to look up at Ron and Ron glaring daggers at Fred. The silence did not last for long.
> 
> "Stay away from her," Ron said, trying to stay calm and quiet, so as to not wake the rest of the house, but his anger could be heard in the trembling of his voice, boiling just beneath the surface of his restraint.
> 
> It took a moment for the words to register in Fred's mind. It had been a rather unexpected thing to say, especially after watching how pitifully sorry Ronald had seemed the past two weeks. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Fred asked, gently setting his tea cup onto the table without a sound and turning a calm gaze in his brother's direction.
> 
> Ron glared down at his tea, his jaw muscles rippling as he clenched his teeth together, trying not to grow too angry and yell. "I said stay away from her! Hermione! You're _not_ Fred. Fred is _dead_ , and that means we don't know _what_ you are and what kind of danger you pose to our family."
> 
> Fred took a deep breath before responding, his gaze not wavering from his angry brother. "I haven't hurt her once, in all the times we've been studying together..."
> 
> "Yet." Ron growled from behind bared teeth.
> 
> "...And I have no intentions of ever doing so, Ron. I've no intention of following in your footsteps and harming her in _any_ way." Fred snapped his jaw shut, rolling his eyes at himself. He had not intended to use that against his brother. It had been an accident after all. But still, the thought of those bruises on her skin…
> 
> Ron's resolve to remain calm seemed to snap at that. "I didn't _mean_ to hurt her! I just..."
> 
> "You just wanted her to do what you wanted her to, without question, or without making up her own mind," Fred interrupted, standing from his seat, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets and leaning against the table."
> 
> "No!" Ron growled, nearly slamming his cup down in the sink. "I wanted to protect her! From you! From making a mistake in trusting you...!"
> 
> "From getting too close to me, you mean?" Fred spoke slowly and clearly, his brows sinking low on his face as his confusion filtered into his voice. How was it so obvious to everyone else that Hermione was _with_ Ron and no one else, but so difficult for his baby brother to grasp?
> 
> "She's _mine_! Mine, Fred, and you can't have her, _too_! Just like you get everything else! All the love, all the adoration. No! This one thing, I want to have!"
> 
> Fred's composure finally started to crack as well, his brow furrowing in barely contained anger. "She is _not_ a thing, Ron. You don't get to stake a claim to her, and it is _her_ decision who she spends time with or who she befriends."
> 
> To their surprise, and causing both young men to jump, the door to the kitchen opened. There in a t-shirt and fuzzy pajama pants featuring little pictures of books and quills, stood Hermione. Ron swallowed audibly as he watched Hermione, her gaze trailing from one Weasley brother to the other, her expression cold and calculating. Fred straightened up and watched her quietly as Ron shrank into himself, scowling down at his feet. Each waited, one more impatiently as the other, as she gathered her thoughts and surveyed the young men before her. When she did speak, her voice was cold, sarcastic and resigned. Fred thought she just sounded so tired.
> 
> "So. To what do I owe the honor of having two fine gentlemen arguing over me at such wee hours in the morning?"
> 
> Fred turned his gaze to Ron, waiting to see if his younger brother would respond. It did not seem as though any response would be forth coming any time soon. So, Fred turned back to Hermione and replied, "My dearest, baby brother was just reminding me that you belong to him, and I should maintain my distance, being an unknown but obviously dangerous work of Dark magics."
> 
> Hermione blinked at Fred before turning to Ron and taking a step or two towards him. "Oh, that's all? Asserting your dominance was all, hmm, Ronald?"
> 
> Ron's head shot up, his eyes wide in shock. "N-no! It wasn't like that..."
> 
> " _'She's mine, Fred, and I won't let you have her,'_ was what you said, wasn't it? As though you _owned_ me, perhaps?"
> 
> "That's not how I meant it, 'Mione!" Ron pleaded with his childhood friend.
> 
> "Oh," Hermione asked, her expression unchanged from her entrance into the kitchen. "Care to explain to me, Ronald, because the wording just seemed so clear."
> 
> Ron glanced between Fred and Hermione, mouth working as he tried to find some way of saving the situation, but he was coming up with nothing.
> 
> Hermione closed her eyes and drew in a long breath as she tried to calm herself. "Ronald," she began. "I have wanted to be with you so long, I can hardly remember a time where I didn't. But for the love of me, I am struggling to remember why anymore."
> 
> Fred winced, an involuntary sympathetic pain running through his heart at the words. Even if he agreed with what he believed she was about to do, it didn't keep him from feeling for his little brother. He had always hoped for happiness for his baby brother, and right now Fred could see it crumbling there on the kitchen floor. He knew with time, Ron would figure himself out, be a man who could be someone Hermione, or any other woman for that matter, would be happy to have as a partner. But for now, he was resigned to watching his brother's heart be broken.
> 
> Hermione continued in a still, calm voice. "You have always made it clear that your anger and jealousy and pride mean more to you than your friends. Than me. Sure, you had your times where you shined, making me feel like I actually mattered. That I was more important." She closed her eyes, thoughts going over those days when he really seemed like he would put her first. But they always only came after he had messed up and made her cry. It was like he was making up for bad behavior, only to go right back to it. Some awful cycle.
> 
> Ron shook his head, taking a step towards Hermione. "No! That's not how I..." Hermione took a step back from him, raising her hand in request for his silence. She intended for him to listen to her. To finally actually _listen_ to what she had to say.
> 
> "You have, time and again, made me a last resort. You have been thoughtless and crass and downright mean-spirited. You mock the very basic building blocks that make up who I am. And I have continued to be pulled in and lulled by those times you pay me attention and hit me with those bloody puppy-dog eyes of yours, but I'm done. I'm done being yanked around emotionally, mentally...And I cannot believe I have to say it. But I won't be yanked around physically, either."
> 
> Ron shook his head, reaching up to let his fingertips hover over elbow, where he knew the bruises had finally started to fade. They were an accident, that was all. They both knew he would not have put them there on purpose.
> 
> ”Hermione, please. Let’s just…Can we just talk this out? You know I’m not as good with my words as you are. That I get them mixed up is all…”
> 
> Hermione’s shoulders and head drooped further as she listened. She was so tired. “Ronald, maybe we just…Jumped into this really fast? This year we’ve really been figuring out how we feel for each other, but that has been between fighting Dark Wizards, and being bogged down and affected by Horcruxes, and hopping around all over the wilderness near starving…And we thought we could be captured or killed at any moment.” She sighed, reaching up to rub her eyes roughly. “It’s hardly a good idea to base a romantic relationship on such a rough and rocky friendship and adrenaline brought on by a battle with a Basilisk.”
> 
> Ronald was starting to get an almost frantic look on his face. “W-wait…Hermione, just-“
> 
> ”Ron,” Hermione interrupted the red-head before her. “Maybe we should call this off for now. You know? Until we are able to get our lives figured out. I’ve got so much on my plate right now, trying to figure out what happened to…” She gestured non-committedly toward a slowly retreating Fred before continuing on, “And I have to figure out what to do with my parents. I’ll have to find them, somehow reverse the memory charms I placed on them. And _then_ I need to figure out what direction my life is going to be going in after all that.” She paused in her ramblings to look up at his face, his expression crumbling and shifting with the weight of several emotions he wasn’t sure how to process. “And there is _so much_ you have to figure out as well. Besides, aside from Harry, is there anything either of us really have in common? Have you ever shown _any_ interests in anything I have had a passion for until that very last minute? The same holds true for me! What is it you are interested in that stimulates me in any way, Ron? Not much, and that’s _ok_ , Ron. We have had to deal with more in the past seven years than many people twice our age have in their whole lives, and we have needed to rely on each other and Harry almost exclusively. We…I need some time. So…Let’s set this whole…Thing we were working on aside for a bit, ok?”
> 
> Ron stared at her in astonishment, as though he could not believe those words had actually come out of her mouth. "'Mione...Wha-What are you...? You can't be serious. We were always meant to be together, you know that?” He took a step towards her again, reaching out carefully towards her. "I know it took me awhile to figure it out, but I did. I really did." He placed his hand along Hermione's elbow causing her to step back again, pulling her arm from him, her expression unchanged still. Ron stood stock still, blinking at her as though his mind had fizzled out. After a moment, everything seemed to crash in on him and his outstretched hand clenched into a fist between them. His face twisted in an expression somewhere between heartbreak and self-righteous fury. "I knew it," he ground out, eyes glaring holes in the floor. "I always knew. I should never have convinced myself that a swot like you would be worth all the effort."
> 
> Hermione drew back as though stung, her eyes wide in shock at the venom Ron was biting her with. She was frozen on the spot, hurt crossing her own features and almost missed the sudden movement that occurred just behind her. Fred strode forward in long strides to reach out and snatch Ron up by the shoulder of his pajamas. He dragged his little brother to the door and shoved him out, standing in the doorway and blocking the way, glaring down at his brother in anger and disbelief. "You've said quite enough, I think. I'm sure you'll come to your senses eventually, and you'll realize your being a right prat. You're hurt and scared and I get it, but Granger didn't deserve that. And she certainly deserves better than what you can give her." He paused, watching his brother's features morphing back and forth between his emotions as it always did when he was dealing with too many emotions at once. "Go to bed, Ronald. Best not to be caught by Mum when she sees the state Granger's gonna be in.
> 
> Fred closed the door quietly, shutting Ronald out of the room and turned to look back at Hermione. He watched as her shoulders began to tremble and knew she was dissolving into tears at that moment. His brow furrowed, completely uncertain as to what he should do. He knew that Hermione had truly cared for his brother, Merlin only knew why, and had done so for much longer than dear Ronald had deserved. Again, he was struck by the knowledge that one of his dear ones' heart was breaking before him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Ron had moved in with George in his flat within days of his row with Hermione. Molly was distraught at having yet another of her children removing themselves from her house. She wanted so desperately to keep all of them close and not let any of them go. Effects of the war, not knowing where all her babies were at once and having lost Fred. Sure, it appeared she had him back, but she had lost him all the same, and that had left an undeniable mark on her. Hermione could barely stand to be in the house, knowing the reason at least one of Molly's children was not at home was because of her. The outsider who had come in, made herself at home and taken over their sitting room with piles of books and notes that were proving useless. Hermione had apologized to Molly shortly after Ronald had left, and the elder witch simply patted her hair and looked over her with wobbling lips. "Oh, my dear. Ronald is grown. I can't keep him here forever, no matter how much I may wish it."
> 
> Hermione and Fred had buried themselves, once again, up to their shoulders in research. But it was only a day or two this time before Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and threw her quill down on the table. "Weeks! _Weeks_ of nothing but who made it, and information about it we already knew! This is downright disheartening!" Hermione buried her face in her hands, letting her head rest there in her exhaustion. Her precious books had failed her. It was so rarely that that happened, and it left her mentally spent.
> 
> Fred glanced up at her, studying her for a moment before pulling out his wand and waving it at the piles of books around them. Immediately they began to organize themselves back to their shelves if they belonged to the Weasleys or Hermione, or into neat piles to be returned to whatever facility or store Hermione had borrowed them from. He settled in his chair and looked across at her, noting that she had been watching him put the room to rights once more. "Granger," he drawled, gifting her one of his trademark smirks. "You're exhausted. _I'm_ exhausted. Let's do something else."
> 
> "Something else," Hermione questioned, not sure whether the trickster was being serious or about to pull a prank on her.
> 
> "Yes, Granger. Something not to do with books for a while."
> 
> Hermione looked to the tabletop, picking at a small chip in it as she thought. "Well, I suppose there were things I planned to do as soon as the war was over and could do them for a change."
> 
> "There you have it, Granger. More work! That's _just_ what I was thinking would help." Fred didn't even bother trying to hide the sarcastic tone that oozed out of him into his sentences. He leaned back in his chair, one ankle resting on his opposite knee and hands clasped together behind his head. "What did my current predicament distract you from, Granger? Off to save the House Elves from happily serving families they have spent generations caring for? Or, perhaps a coalition to rescue the giant squid, now that Hogwarts is under repair?"
> 
> Hermione did not look up to answer, nor did she even manage to crack a smile at his jokes. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, deciding whether or not to let him know what she had done. She was nervous about what his reaction would be. Technically what she had done could be seen as illegal. But certainly, one of the infamous Weasley twins would not let a little thing like the law assist a friend in need. Surely, he would understand.
> 
> "Find my parents," she murmured so quietly he almost did not catch it.
> 
> He tilted his head to one side. "Well, why not visit home, then? I'm sure they'd be happy to keep you for awhil-"
> 
> "I altered their memories, Fred, before I left with Harry and Ron on the Search. They've been in Australia, blissfully unaware that they even have a daughter for well over a year or two."
> 
> Fred's jaw dropped at the explanation. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Granger...Are you saying that you obliviated your _parents_..."
> 
> "Oh, no! No, I didn't obligate them! I just cast a memory charm of sorts, to alter their memories. They are living safely in Australia as Wendell and Monica Wilkins at the moment, and I would very much like to have them back." She wrung her fingers together. "I stayed, because my family _here_ needed me more immediately." Her gaze travelled back up to catch his disbelieving eye. "These matters were more pressing, but if I am to occupy myself with something else, than they should be the first."
> 
> Fred was glaring down at the table as he tapped his fingers against his knee in thought. “So, _that’s_ what you meant, when you said something to Ron about finding your parents?” His eyes flicked up to her as she nodded once, her nerves still evident across her features. The twin before her nodded himself and stood, reaching out a hand to help Hermione up. She looked at the hand with suspicion before gingerly placing her own within it. Without any tricks he helped her out of her seat. "Well, then," he guided her toward the staircase with a wicked grin. "We should get all packed for a long trip, shall we?"
> 
> Hermione nodded before coming up short on the third step up. "We, Fred? You-Oh, you don't need to come with me, Fred. You should stay here with your family!"
> 
> Fred shook his head, grinning playfully. "You want me to stay cooped up here alone, without company save my over doting mother and sister and four members of my own family who don't trust me to be alone with the silver much less any one of them?"
> 
> Hermione winced at that, though he made no outward signs that the situation stung, she knew it did. He hated being constantly under surveillance. And being stuck in the one building for over a month now was starting to wear on him, as well. "It won't last forever, Fred. We'll find something eventually that will tell us how you came to be standing here. Back from the de-Well. We'll find _something_."
> 
> Fred shrugged, his hand still lightly resting along her shoulder. "If anybody could find something, I know it's you. But, 'Mione," he almost whimpered. "I'm going to smother in this house. And _you_ know I'm not out to harm any of you. Won't you please let me come? If nothing else, I'll keep the trip lively and keep you from boredom!"
> 
> Hermione eyed him warily. "I'll think about it..." she replied as his grin widened.
> 
> "Aw, c’mon, Granger. Who better to keep an eye on me than the greatest witch of our age, eh?"
> 
> -o-0-o-
> 
> Hermione made the announcement at dinner that she would be leaving on a trip to find her parents and that she was not sure how long she would be gone. Once again, she had to explain the situation, amongst a copious amount of questions and exclamations of surprise. Hermione was relieved to find that none of them thought any less of her for what she had done. In fact, it seemed as though they all were rather proud of her for doing what she could to protect her muggle family.
> 
> And then Fred voiced his intention to join her.
> 
> "Absolutely not," Bill Weasley stated matter-of-factly as Mrs. Weasley gasped and reached out to clutch at her husband's hand. Her Freddie wanted to go? She would be losing him again?
> 
> Charlie, who had taken to trying to come to Sunday dinner at least once a month leaned back with a smile. "Aww, C'mon, Bill! What are you worried about? Sure, we're still not sure where he came from, or how he got here, but it's been a month now, and all of us are still in one piece. What harm do you really think he poses, save for the occasional canary cream?" Charlie shot his younger brother a wink before returning his gaze to Bill and Arthur.
> 
> Arthur joined in, rubbing his wife's arm in an attempt to sooth her. "You both have valid points. He has spent a good deal of time alone with our Hermione here, and she is still safe and sound with us. But we still don't have any logical means he could have employed to come back to us from Death."
> 
> Molly gave an involuntary sob and tucked her face into her husband's shoulder.
> 
> Charlie's grin remained. "Oh, come on! What harm can there be to this? You let Hermione watch him while he's here. She can do the same out in the world! But, if it makes you too nervous, one of us could always go with. As back-up." Charlie turned his grin Hermione's way. "Not that you need it, sweetheart. But it would be safer all around."
> 
> Hermione nodded. "I understand Charlie, no need to explain. I would not like to impose, however..."
> 
> Charlie cut her off with a chuckle. "It's no bother. Besides, I'm due for some vacation time from work, anyway. It won't be a problem at all."
> 
> Arthur rubbed a hand across his cheek as he thought about it. It was true they had kept Fred close to home, like some dirty little secret, which was unfair. And he had been growing a bit sulky and sullen as of late. The trip would probably do a world of good. He glanced down at his wife who, though her eyes remained filled with tears, nodded her agreement to it. Arthur nodded as well. "Very well. But either Bill or Charley _must_ go with you, and Fred..." Arthur turned to settle a stern gaze in his son's direction. "I expect you to actually help. Your jokes and tricks can liven most any situation, but if we grow concerned, we will need to bring you back, you understand?"
> 
> Fred nodded, an excited and relieved grin crossing over his features. Ronald tossed his fork on the table and turned away from the table. "Excuse me. I hafta go. Thanks Mum for the food." He bent to drop a quick kiss to his mother’s temple, and before anyone could call out to him or ask him what had upset him, he was gone.
> 
> Ginny shrugged as she turned back to the table. "Hey, I think it sounds like a fantastic idea. Let them both stretch some. They've been cooped up in the sitting room all month. Poor Hermione looks like her mind has been melted a bit."
> 
> Hermione still seemed reluctant to intrude further on the Weasley's time, but Fred reached out to clasp her hand in his. "Hey. This will make everyone, including me, more comfortable. I don't know any better than anyone where I came from aside from the mirror. And it would make me feel better knowing you weren't on your own against me if something happens and it turns out I am influenced by some dark force or other."
> 
> Hermione's brow furrowed as she thought on it. The thought that Fred might be a danger to her had long ago faded from her view, so it was a harsh reminder to her that not everyone else was so certain. She nodded her head. "Very well, Charlie, you said you could get time off work?"
> 
> Charlie nodded excitedly, sitting up. "Just tell me when, and I'll make it happen."
> 
> "I'd like to leave as soon as possible. Is two weeks enough time for you to request off?"
> 
> Charlie nodded, assuring her that that would give him plenty of time to prepare. Hermione thanked everyone and made her excuses stating that with a plan in place she felt much more comfortable. She encouraged Fred and Charlie to get plenty of rest. Traveling such long distances was trying, even for wizards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry if Ronald seemed completely OOC in this chapter. I was so not sure how to progress the plot, as I had not plotted past last chapter. So I just had him react the same way my last ex reacted to me ending the relationship, cause that's the experience I have. Hopefully it works for all of you.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always so appreciated, and I love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there! Thanks for reading! If you would like to see more, feel free to check out my tumblr: pranksters-and-bookworms 
> 
> I take fic prompts there, so if there is something special you'd like to read, drop me a message and ask or something!
> 
> See ya soon!♡


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